A Hero's Ultimatum
by Lupineleigh
Summary: When a villain threatens to reveal DW's identity and destroy his family and city, DW is forced to commit several crimes. The stakes keep rising until he is faced with the ultimate dilemma: kill, or watch as everything he cares about goes up in smoke.
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

Previously...

As the sun rose and decent citizens went off to work, an avian figure leaned back from his computer. He held up a printout and compared it with another on top of a growing pile of images and photos he'd pulled off of the Internet. This picture starred a certain red headed girl in a green mask, cape, and hat. Several photos from local papers showed Gosalyn Mallard posed with her various sports teams after championship wins. In the background of the latest baseball team photo, a middle-aged, plain looking duck was smiling proudly at the team's captain.  
>The villain compared the grown duck's face to a close up of a masked, purple-clad duck posing for the camera: a perfect match. He grinned and tossed the photos on the pile and pulled up another interesting article he had found in a casual yet informed search on 'Gaggle.' It had a video clip displaying the famous Canard Tower explosion from several years ago. The villain pressed play and watched as the top of the tower blazed and smoked.<br>He cackled merrily and snatched up an 8x10" glossy photo of Darkwing Duck he'd gotten from a ridiculously enthusiastic computer nerd after contacting the pitiful Darkwing Duck Fanclub. He regarded it for a moment with a Grinchy smile before cutting it to ribbons with scissors. He carelessly dumped the shreds on a growing pile in the waste basket and picked up another photo, drawing a big "X" over the subject. It was a modest house in the suburbs with the number "537" on the mailbox.

"Gotcha," Phineas Sharp laughed. "HA hahahaha hahahahahaha!"

* * *

><p><strong>A Hero's Ultimatum<strong>

Chapter 1

Shots rang throughout the still summer night. A sedan with trigger-happy rats hanging out the windows zoomed through a stoplight, just missing a truck and trailer pulling out into the intersection. The driver blasted his horn but the rats paid him no attention.  
>Stuck on the other side of the semi, a very frustrated duck sank back on his motorcycle's seat. The costumed canard revved the bike's engines impatiently, eager to resume the chase. The truck finally cleared the intersection, providing a clear view of the street ahead, and a rapidly disappearing set of taillights.<p>

"Stupid light!" Darkwing Duck growled as he watched his target retreat. "I always hit it red!" He looked up and down the street. "There isn't even any traffic to stop! What is this? Some sort of a conspiracy against me that I don't know about!"

Calmly ignoring the hero's increasingly loud rant, Launchpad propped on elbow on the sidecar. "Well, maybe if ya'd taken that left at Pepe's Pizza, we could'a gotten in front of them." His conversational tone and demeanor contradicted with his words.

"Right. Like I'm supposed to believe your stomach over my superior intellect," Darkwing berated his sidekick before snapping at the light. "Hurry it up already! The Cheese Gang is getting away!"

"Chill out, Dad. The light will turn any second now..." Quiverwing Quack rolled her eyes.

The light did turn before he could argue and Darkwing got the Ratcatcher back up to speed. They found the sedan just a few blocks away in the process of taking a sharp turn. Two rats hung out the windows and fired at the pursuing ducks. Darkwing and his two companions ducked under the onslaught of bullets.

"What'd ya do to make them so mad?" Launchpad gulped.

"What do I ever do! I just told the little guy in the hat to hand over the goods before I trounced him!" Darkwing replied anxiously as he simultaneously steered and ducked bullets.

"Great idea, Darkwing," Quiverwing muttered sarcastically from Launchpad's lap. "Insulting someone sensitive about his height while he's holding a gun!"

"Well it might have worked if SOMEONE hadn't tripped the fire alarm!" Darkwing snapped impatiently as he veered around another corner, bringing the villains' escape car back into view.

"Hey, you can't argue with results," Quiverwing shrugged.

"She's got you there, DW," Launchpad commented. "Gos—uh... I mean QW's trick with setting off the sprinkler system got the Cheese Gang to leave without taking any of the hostages with them. I guess those guys don't appreciate cold showers...Hehehe."

"What I don't get is how they got out of jail in the first place!" Quiverwing said. "Didn't you just put them there a few weeks ago?"

"Yes," Darkwing replied crossly. "And when we take them back there, remind me to leave a sternly worded memo with the commissioner about prison security!"* (comes from kaboom's "The Crisis of Infinite Darkwings" comic)

Darkwing broke off and swerved into an alley to avoid another burst of gunfire. Pulling back out behind the car, he held a hand out to Quiverwing without taking his eyes off the road. "Quiverwing...hand me one of your glue arrows. I'll shoot it onto the windshield and block the driver's vision. He'll have to pull over and then we'll curb those cheese-nipping crooks."

"We could do that... Or we can do it MY way!" Quiverwing stood and placed a booted foot on the dash, steadying her bow as she took aim.

"Hey! Get down from there!" Darkwing exclaimed as he glimpsed his daughter's actions out of the corner of his eye. "You might get..."

Ignoring the crime fighter, Quiverwing fired several shots, taking out both rear tires with regular arrows and plugging the vehicle's tailpipe with an apple speared on arrow.

The Cheese Gang cried out as their driver lost control of their vehicle, spinning into a fire hydrant. The rats dizzily climbed out of their car just as the Ratcatcher skidded to a halt alongside them. Two of the gangsters raised their weapons, but another well-aimed arrow from Quiverwing with a heavy spring loaded net dropped on top of them, trapping all but two members of the gang under it. The leader dodged just in time. He narrowed his eyes at the diminutive Quiverwing.

"You're starting to get on my nerves, kid..!" the rodent growled. He reached under his coat for a gun. Quiverwing calmly fired the glue arrow at the rat. His limbs were imprisoned in the sticky mess. He sputtered in surprise before launching into a tirade of curses.

"Hey hey hey! Watch the language, there are children present!" Darkwing snapped at him, covering Quiverwing's ear slits with his hands.

The rat glared daggers at the heroes and took a deep breath... Only to get hit with a jet of water. He was washed across the street, sliding to a stop by the heroes' feet. Darkwing smirked and clapped a pair of handcuffs on him. Quiverwing looked to see what had happened and saw Launchpad by the fire hydrant, using one of the sedan's hubcaps to direct the water. He waved and grinned. He had also put handcuffs on the dazed driver while the heroes were occupied. The whole Cheese Gang had been caught.

"Looks like they got a cold shower after all, huh, Darkwing?" Quiverwing giggled.

"Yeah... Right." Darkwing smirked. "And boyyy did they need it! Did you catch a whiff of that guy behind the wheel? Phew! He must live on Limburger! Guess there's a reason why they're called the 'Cheese' Gang!"

* * *

><p>Several hours later, Drake Mallard was awakened in his room at home by a persistent knocking sound. After fumbling around for his alarm clock, he finally woke up enough to realize the noise was coming from outside. He drew back the curtains and cut off in mid yawn when he recognized a mini version of his airplane hovering outside. It was a Flashquack; a mini computer inside a toy plane that relayed messages from S.H.U.S.H., the government's headquarters for spying on enemy agencies, countering internal terrorism, and keeping tabs on super villains.<br>Drake hurriedly slipped into costume before opening the window to let the plane in.

Darkwing's appearance seconds after Drake Mallard's was taped on a camcorder across the street.

Darkwing pressed a button and the cockpit popped open on the miniature replica of his own plane. S.H.U.S.H.  
>Director J. Gander Hooter's face appeared on the tiny monitor.<br>"Ah, Darkwing. Thank you for responding so quickly. I apologize for interrupting your morning. Our team has just finished going through the video footage from the Black Forest compound. While we did uncover some interesting leads on the identities and location of FOWL's leaders, we, unfortunately, were not able to pin down Phineas Sharp's whereabouts. It appears he's evaded our grasp once again."

"He's a slippery one, alright, I'll grant him that. Don't you worry, J. Gander. Darkwing Duck will have Sharp wrapped up and delivered faster than you can say ''!"

As Darkwing started to turn away, Hooter spoke up urgently.  
>"Darkwing! Wait! You mustn't take this matter too lightly. Phineas Sharp is no pushover."<p>

"Big deal." Darkwing shrugged. "He's nowhere near as intimidating in the height or brawn factor as half of my rogue gallery, nor is he as diabolically insane as the other half. I can beat him with my eyes closed."

"Perhaps, if you got close enough to confront him. Remember, Sharp has been evading my top agents for well nigh a quarter of a century. Agent Blunt is the best agent S.H.U.S.H. has ever had, yet even he only had one victory over Sharp. You know Derek's capabilities as well as I."

"True. But Sharp has yet to match wits against someone of MY caliber." the crime fighter said stubbornly.

"Before you go after him, I suggest you take a look at his files." Hooter said. The Flashquack's bill popped open and a small disk was revealed inside. "This disk has all the intel we have on him."

"Sure, fine. If it'll make you feel better." Darkwing stuffed the disk into a pocket.

"Sharp's cruelty knows no bounds. With Derek officially out of action and a recent defeat on his mind, Sharp is likely to target you now. Be careful, Darkwing. Do not underestimate his depravity."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

The sun kissed the windows of the houses on Avian Way. Most of the residents were still in bed, enjoying their weekend. A few, like Binkie Muddlefoot, were out tending to their gardens.  
>An unfamiliar black sedan was parked across the street in front of a house with a "For Rent" sign. The curtains were drawn over a window that had not been covered in several years. Only Binkie and one other person took notice, and that second person had just gone out to pick up the morning paper. He sat down with his coffee at the kitchen table and reached for a helping of hash browns... Make that a third helping.<p>

"Hey! Save some for the rest of us!" Drake chided, pulling the plate out of Launchpad's reach.

Launchpad frowned and pulled his hand back. "Sorry, Drake. Guess I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"Really? What for?" Drake asked curiously as he went back to what he was doing. He could wager a guess, but his mind was more fixated on breakfast and his plans for the day than listening to his friend.

Launchpad was a little surprised. "Well, tomorrow's Father's Day. I thought I'd fly in a little early to visit everyone before I see my folks."

"Oh. Right," Drake grinned, feeling silly for asking. Launchpad had friends in Duckburg that he liked to visit on weekends when he wasn't busy being a sidekick, so it made sense that he would go there before going to his family hangar. Wanting to make up for being rude, Drake shoved the plate back within Launchpad's reach. "There you go, Pal. Tell everyone 'hi' for Gos and me."

"Sure thing, DW," Launchpad grinned. "Thanks."

Drake went back to flipping pancakes.

Launchpad turned to the comics section and spoke casually. "By the way, it looks like Mrs. Beaker finally found a renter. There's a car parked out front of her place."

"That's nice," Drake said distractedly as he struggled to keep a freshly poured pancake from dripping off the griddle.

"Yeah. Ya know, I was beginning to think she'd never find a buyer. Guess the market is finally picking up."

"Yeah yeah yeah," Drake was still fiddling with the pancakes. "Good for Mrs. Beaker." To the breakfast entree, he muttered. "Will you stop that!"  
>The oversized puddle of mix threatened to spill over the sides of the griddle. He had no idea how he was going to flip the darn thing, but he wasn't about to take the easy way out by cutting it in half. No overgrown flapjack was going to get the best of Darkwing Duck!<p>

Launchpad gulped the rest of his coffee and went to refill his cup. He saw his boss wrestling the spatula under the pancake. "You know, it'd be a lot easier to flip that if you cut it in half..."

"Do I tell you how to fly?" Drake snapped irritably and irrationally.

Accustomed to such outbursts, Launchpad shrugged and topped off his cup. He glanced up at the ceiling. "Haven't heard Gos snoring in a while, think she's up yet?"

"—D'ooh!—" Drake fussed as the undersized spatula speared through the middle of the now overcooked pancake. Drake finally slashed the flapjack with the spatula and turned the halves individually. The pancake was an unappetizing shade of black. Drake sighed. He doubted even Launchpad would eat this now. He irritably chucked it in the trash and poured the rest of the batter on the griddle, making certain he kept the puddles a reasonable size this time. He finally processed Launchpad's question and glanced at the clock on the microwave.  
>"Probably. She knows we're going to the amusement park today, so she's most likely tearing through her room right now, looking for her shoes and socks and who knows what else..." he sighed, thinking of the pile of laundry that had been collecting in her room. Would it kill her to put her clothes by the washing machine...? Sheesh. The things he put up with...<br>"Gosalyn! Breakfast is ready!" he hollered as he flipped the last pancake onto a plate. He finished setting everything out, keeping an ear tuned above.

Nothing. Drake's eyes drifted back up to the floorboards, wondering about the lack of noise above. After a moment of craning his head, Drake left the kitchen.

"Gos?" he called. He would be able to hear her snoring from anywhere in the house if she was still asleep. What could be wrong...? She wouldn't sneak out of the house while he was home on a Saturday. Would she...?

Worry causing the lines on his forehead to crinkle, he jogged to her room and knocked on the door.  
>"Gosalyn? It's breakfast time! Up and at 'em!"<p>

He pressed his head to the door just as it swung open. After a startled cry and an undignified tumble onto the floor, he looked up to find his daughter's eyes locked on him. He leapt to his feet and enfolded Gosalyn in a hug.  
>"You're here!" he mumbled into her hair. "Thank goodne...I mean, uh—" He broke off, not wanting to reveal how worried he'd been these past thirty seconds. He straightened his green argyle vest and put on a chipper tone. "Glad to see you're up, Kiddo! Ready for some breakfast?"<p>

"Sure Dad," she rolled her eyes, not bothered by his change in mood.

As Gosalyn headed toward the stairs, Drake noticed something different about her. She was moving a little sluggishly and her bright green eyes weren't sparkling as usual. Before she got too far ahead of him, he tugged on her arm.

"Hang on, there, Slugger. Are you feeling alright?" Before she could answer, he pressed on with his own conclusion. "Oh, I knew I pushed you too hard in that training course... I should put more mats down around the pole vault, and I should have placed the hurdles further apart, and—"

"Dad!" Gosalyn cut off his tirade. "I'm fine. Cut the talk and let's eat." She pulled away from him and hopped onto the banister, sliding down the railing.

"But you fell awfully hard from the—"

"I didn't fall, I just misjudged my landing. End of story." Gosalyn stated as she jumped off the rail and landed nimbly on her feet as proof.

"Well, if it wasn't the fall from the vaulting pole, what was it? You look..." he didn't want to say 'dreadful' since that wasn't really the case. "Bedraggled..."

"Probably because I didn't get much sleep." She yawned and sat down at the table. "Hi Launchpad," she added as she reached for a serving spoon.

"Mornin' Gos!" Launchpad replied with his usual sunny disposition. "Sorry you had a rough night. 'Least you oughta sleep well after spending the day with your old man at the amusement park! Hehe."

Gosalyn giggled. "Yep! At least One of us will be worn out at the end of the day!" She smothered another chuckle.

Drake raised an unamused eyebrow at being referred to as "old."  
>"Ha ha. Very. Funny. Now can we get back to the part where we were about to enjoy a nice nutritious breakfast, courtesy of moi?" He glanced around the table and sighed lightly. His housemates had already helped themselves. He was the one being left out. "Gos, would you pass me the syrup?"<p>

"Sure Dad."

He settled in after helping himself to the fruit bowl, forgoing a second cup of coffee in favor of orange juice. The way Gosalyn kept him on his toes once she got going, the last thing he needed was more caffeine.

Gosalyn wolfed her breakfast and the duo departed for the amusement park.

Launchpad drained the last of his coffee and hopped into one of the spinning chairs, taking the Thunderquack to visit his folks. Since his sister Loopy had helped him build the plane, he figured there wasn't any harm in showing it off a little.

* * *

><p>Across the street, a camcorder recorded Launchpad's exit through the living room window. This particular camcorder was connected to a computer, and sitting in front of that computer was Phineas Sharp.<p>

"So THAT'S how you do it, eh?" Sharp smirked. "Well, we'll just have to find out where that leads, then, won't we?"

Nearby, a seagull in a newsboy hat was busy opening moving boxes. Some of Sharp's things were espionage-related but most were for leisure. One box had nothing but Derek Blunt dolls and action figures for Sharp's entertainment.

"I've brought in all the moving boxes, Phineas..." the gull said in a flat, weary tone. "Where do you want these?" He gestured to the box of dolls as he leaned against the doorframe and mopped his forehead with his hat.

"Oh, anywhere will do for now. Preferably well within reach." As he said this, Phineas snatched one of the dolls out of the box and stuffed it in his pocket. He peered out across the neighborhood to the towers just visible on the horizon down town. He crossed his arms behind his back as he spoke. "I've been curious about the rumors I've heard concerning this city for a number of years... Once it was run by fiends almost as clever and organized as myself. Men who knew how to make an investment and wait for it to grow before seizing it."  
>He gestured toward downtown.<br>"Now look at it! Not even my own cousins, with the might of FOWL behind them, have had anything besides minute successes. I don't understand why; St. Canard is teeming with possibilities! A weak police force, an oblivious public, and a rich sea of resources just begging to be exploited!"  
>He glanced at some of the newspaper articles he had printed out on Darkwing's various enemies. Crime lords, super powered super villains, mutants, gangs, organized armies, the odd psychopath here and there, and simple thugs and purse snatchers. He thumbed through articles on the Fearsome Five members thoughtfully, noting how each one had caused terror and mass destruction at some point in their individual careers, and yet seemed to fail spectacularly as a group. Even on their own, each member had suffered humiliating defeats. He shoved the articles aside impatiently and paced around the room in a rant.<br>"Bombs, raids, floods, mass prison breakouts, mutants, toys, plants, appliances, attack dogs...! With criminals like that, it's a wonder the city is still standing! And yet, somehow, it prevails while FOWL flounders on the edge of bankruptcy... It can't possibly be the doing of one lowly hero... Could it?"  
>Sharp glanced at the newspaper clippings and printouts on his desk and smirked. "Certainly not. If the media and law enforcement reflect public opinion, I'd say Darkwing Duck is one of the least popular, and least successful, 'heroes' around. One way or another, we'll soon see what this little 'hero' is made of!"<p>

He had a good chuckle before glancing at his watch and sighing. "Well, I best be going. Stay here, Horatio, and finish with the unpacking. I should be back in time for my appointment with Mr. Sharky..." He shed his vest and coat for a dark, loose fitting sweatshirt and pulled on some gloves, stuffing a skull cap in his pocket. "Did you get my bag ready?"

"Yes, Phineas. It's sitting by the garage." Horatio replied, putting his cap back on.

"Excellent…" Sharp grinned.

* * *

><p>Moments later, a shadowy figure snuck across the street towards the Mallard residence. He darted behind the mailbox, ducking behind a hedge and one of the trees out front. So far so good. There wasn't a soul in sight. Not even the nosy housewife.<br>He prowled around the house, cleverly unhooking the latch to the back gate with, of all things, an ancient candy cane he had dug out of Mrs. Beaker's sofa. Sharp grinned. Let's see the crime fighter get a print off of that!

There were a few shady trees in the backyard that provided him with ample cover, but Sharp was pretty certain the houses with a view of the Mallards' backyard were too small and low for anyone to see through the trees. He strolled across the lawn like he owned the place. Appropriate, since pretty soon he would essentially own the man who did own the place.

There was a white patio, complete with generic lawn furniture and a shed nearby. He quickly inspected the windows and was not surprised to see glass break detectors installed on the sills. Most likely the windows themselves were double paned with safety glass. He would have been disappointed if there weren't other safety measures throughout the place.

A crime fighter living out in the open with a family was bound to run across a clever criminal or two, and Sharp was certain he was not the only criminal mind to bring the battle to Darkwing on his home turf. A quick check into neighborhood records showed extensive remodeling and rebuilding had been done on both the Mallards' and the Muddlefoots' houses several times in the last two years. It didn't take a genius to figure out there was something fishy going on at Avian Way... Sharp was surprised that Darkwing had managed to live here this long.

Now then...to carry on the image that he belonged here, he probably ought to enter by a traditional means. Luckily there was a back door, which meant there was most likely an extra key hidden around somewhere. Some place close but not too obvious... Hmm. Nothing came across as conspicuous. Perhaps he should resort to his lock picks... Wait a second... That thermometer looked a tad bulkier than it needed to be. Sharp inspected it and found a security keypad on it. Well, that explained where Mallard kept his spare key... But Sharp didn't have time to fool around in the open. Resisting the urge to break the casing, he hung the thermometer back in its place and pulled out his lock picks. A twist here, a bump there and...voilà! Two seconds later, Phineas Sharp was inside Darkwing Duck's kitchen.

Sharp closed the door behind him and shut the curtains. Now to business. He took a moment to survey his surroundings with a practiced eye. Not that there was much to see... The cabinets looked like they hadn't been dusted in ages and there were dirty dishes in the sink! Didn't the man have a housekeeper for this sort of work?  
>Shaking his head, Sharp scanned for potential nooks to tuck his little trinkets in. Like...that cookie jar. The plain ceramic piece looked like it had a view of most of the kitchen and it was near the doorway. If he tucked a spy camera there, he should be able to angle it to detect any motion in the hall, as well as record the regular goings-on in the rest of the kitchen.<br>Just as he lifted the lid, a klaxon rang off. Startled, he cursed and slammed it shut. Thank goodness no one was home! Blasted alarm! What kind of nutcase would bug his own cookie jar? He shook his head and sought out other positions, making sure the listening device was as far from that ridiculous alarm as possible. The curtain would do... Now for the camera... He settled with placing it on top of the refrigerator. At least the refrigerator didn't have a motion sensor on it. Crazy caped clown!  
>He found a key rack and snatched several to try in the kitchen lock. Aha! Here it was. He made an impression of the key to have his own copy made later and hung them back on their respective hooks.<br>Then he slithered and slunk through the house with a smile most unpleasant. A bug here, a camera there, and he was in business. He also left a little present up on the highest shelf in Gosalyn's room, complete with a microscopic camera. He was dying to see the look on Mallard's face when he looked at the shelf. Sharp snickered softly and continued perusing the rest of the house.  
>Once he had every room covered, he crossed over to the blue chairs in the living room and eased into one. Ah! A job well done! It felt good being back in action after so much time as an overseer and manager at his resort. The joys of villainy...<br>He pulled himself out of his reverie and turned his attention to the statue. Ugh! A rodent! Who would want to look at a mouse in a ridiculous detective getup every day? Then again...considering whose house he was in... He shook his head and reluctantly tapped the statue's head.  
>He wasn't quite prepared for what happened next: he was flipped upside down, flung into a second automated chair on a track, and hurled through pitch darkness, up into something like an elevator shaft, ejected from his seat, and plopped onto another spinning chair that flipped him upside down several times before finally stopping.<br>Ooh... He held his spinning head. Good thing he wasn't prone to motion sickness...

When he felt like he had complete faculty control again, he glanced at his stopwatch and grinned.  
>"Not bad! Seven minutes and forty seconds flat since crossing the street. Quite an accomplishment, I must say!"<br>He stretched and stood. "At last... I am mere inches from glory! I'm in Darkwing Duck's secret hideout..." he sniffed distastefully. "Ugh... Too many chemicals. Reminds me of the time I broke into that lab in France..."  
>He shook off his memories and looked around, quickly spying the lab table with its stands of test tubes and beakers.<br>Ooh...!" he clasped his fingertips together with a devilish grin. "This looks promising!" He peered at some of the colorful liquids in the test tubes and corked one to stick into his bag for analyzation. "I'm willing to wager Cousin Edward would love to get his hands on these formulas."

He glanced through a log book recording all of Darkwing's recipes for various gases, including a potent nerve gas with a big red "X" going through it indicating that the results had been less than pleasant and that Darkwing wanted to avoid making it in the future. It sounded like the perfect stocking stuffer for an evil chemist.

He wandered around, eyeing his surroundings. "Not very stylish, but I could make a killing off of artists looking for atmosphere and interesting architecture. Yes, and the view of the river and the city is quite spectacular. No wonder that masked meddler chose this as his hideout..."

He found a filing cabinet and casually scanned some of the files in the drawers. It was quite an extensive collection, but most of the files were old and hardly any had dates past the nineties. Apparently the crime fighter kept a record on everything he could find pertaining to certain villains. Perhaps it was his way of psychoanalyzing them?  
>Some of the files looked interesting but none seemed to be of any importance. There was absolutely nothing pertinent on S.H.U.S.H. or Derek Blunt. A waste of time...<p>

Sharp sighed wistfully, wishing he had a Blunt doll to destroy. He really should start carrying a couple with him. They were such handy stress relievers... But he really should focus right now. Heavens knew when such an opportune moment to explore would surface again.

Having learned from experience that he didn't want to go snooping in the Mallard's kitchen, he avoided the kitchenette, veering instead toward the library where he admired some of the titles. One in particular caught his attention. It had the name "Waddlemeyer" on the spine. He thumbed through it briefly before deciding it was of no interest and shoving it back in place. He did find a collection of classic detective stories which, after some thought, he stuffed in his bag for leisurely reading.

Finally, he made his way to the prize: the giant wall-mounted flat screen up on the platform. He took out a jump drive and sat down to investigate. He practically had dollar signs floating in his eyes. To the right buyer, the information on this hard drive could be worth more than Sharp's villain resort. He was certain that masked nuisance had something worthwhile on here. That caped buffoon couldn't possibly depend on just his puny skills and a single weapon to go up against the likes of FOWL...

As Sharp had expected, the computer was password protected, but guessing the code was easy enough. On the third try, he was in and he didn't even have to answer a security question. He had Darkwing's birthdate, social security number, and the date the egotistical mallard first appeared in the newspapers written down, plus similar numbers pertaining to his daughter and sidekick. The code was the newspaper date. Plain and simple.  
>Sharp didn't get to smile for long, though. A minute after he started his search, a popup window appeared with a timer on it. At first Sharp thought it was a menu for restarting the computer to install a new program. Then he realized it was another security feature, requiring him to enter a different passcode. He tried Gosalyn's birthday and fortunately it worked. Then, when he plugged in a backup drive to copy files to, the system directed him through three security questions. One was "what is your father's name?"<br>Sharp entered the name of Drake's father. A timer started, threatening to shut down the system if he answered incorrectly again.  
>After a bit of thought, it occurred to Sharp that Gosalyn might get onto the computer. He typed in Drake's name. That worked, but another password box appeared. He started to type Gosalyn's name but that seemed too obvious. Her birthday perhaps? No. Again, it was too obvious. He tapped his fingers.<br>"Think, man, think! "

His gaze chanced upon something odd in the jumbled collection of instruments, papers, and CDs on the desk. It was brightly colored and the font on the binding was too bold to be anything of importance. It was a video game! Ah...! So his assumption had been correct. Darkwing's, hehe, 'daughter' did enjoy some leisurely moments in this dark, drafty tower. He typed in the game's title. The computer started counting down to a complete memory wipe. Uhoh... Sharp read the game's description and tried inputting the cartoon character's name in the password box. It went through, stopping the automatic shutdown.  
>Sharp leaned back and sighed. Was there anything about this duck that was normal? He looked through the file names on the hard drive.<p>

"A-ha!" he smirked, clicking on a file marked as TOP SECRET. Fully expecting to find everything he could possibly know on S.H.U.S.H., he copied the huge file onto the jump drive. While basking in his victory, he ran a search on his own name. He found satisfyingly little about himself in Darkwing's system and, chuckling, he deleted those few lines. Not that Darkwing would be able to look at them later, but it delighted the vulture almost as much as decapitating and chopping up a Blunt doll.

Wondering if Darkwing had anything useful on FOWL, Sharp ran a search on the organization's acronym, narrowing it down to "High Command." Not surprisingly, there wasn't much more than a screen shot of the three infamous silhouettes and a general description of their *ahem* appearances, behavior, and voices. (Sharp had to laugh when he saw Agent Z described as a male duck with an amorphous voice. Agent Z would not appreciate being called a man. Nor would Aloysius appreciate the fact that he was listed as the quiet one in the hat. Now Sharp had yet another reason to tease him about that ridiculous chapeau.)

S.H.U.S.H. proved to be too broad a search, so Sharp settled with Derek Blunt's name. To his surprise, there were tons of files and information pertaining to Blunt, but not a single scrap of classified information. There wasn't even a note on the retired agent's location.  
>Throughly annoyed, Sharp pounded his hand on the keyboard. The computer chimed and went to a black screen, running a systems' check. It recovered admirably quickly, but Sharp was running out of patience. The jump drive had finished downloading the file and further searches on the "C" drive were turning up useless. Most of the files were crime scene photos and mug shots. Sharp plugged in a separate storage device and copied the whole batch onto it. You never knew what might make suitable blackmail these days...<p>

Once the job was done, he took the chairs back to Darkwing's house and from there made his way back to his quarters. After dropping off the bag with Horatio and changing out of that vulgar sweatshirt, he plopped down at the desk he had set up as his work station and plugged in the jump drive. He would have quite a bit of reading to do before Mallard returned with his bratty kid. He remembered hearing something about an amusement park and sneered to himself..  
>"Enjoy this bit of mindless merriment while you can, Duck... One way or another, you and your 'daughter' won't be happy for long! Ah hahaha! Ah hahahaha!" p&gt;<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Drake and Gosalyn were indeed well occupied. They rode every ride at least twice and played some marksmanship games, engaging in fierce, yet lighthearted competition. Gosalyn won more prizes than her father and ribbed him for it. He tried for an even bigger prize, finally succeeding only to have Gos tromp his timing. After sulking for a bit, he remembered he was the one who had suggested that they come here in the first place. He laughed at himself and they both continued to enjoy their day.

Sometime later, Drake was pulling out of the parking lot and Gosalyn was leaning back in her seat, shifting the bag full of stuffed animals and such that she and her dad had won as prizes. She twirled one of the plastic handles around her finger, letting her mind drift as she stared out the window. As they drove on, she noticed the street they were on looked kinda familiar... She saw a chain link fence around a small playing field with some kids playing hockey. And beyond them was a swing set and... Wait a minute! This was the backside of the orphanage!

"Stop the car!" Gosalyn cried out.

Drake slammed on the brakes, bringing the car to a screeching halt.  
>"What? Did I miss a bank robbery or something?"<p>

Gosalyn didn't answer. She unbuckled her seat belt and swung open the car door.

"Gosalyn! Get back here!" he lunged across the seat to seize the back of her shirt. "What do you think you're doing?"

"Chill out, Dad. I just wanna take care of something..." she picked up the bag of toys and darted into the building.

Drake hurriedly parked the car (luckily he was an expert at parallel parking) and went in after her. Within two strides, he realized where they were and slowed down.  
>Gosalyn barged right into the office at the end of the hall without waiting for an invitation.<p>

Mrs. Cavanaugh looked up blankly as the familiar redhead handed her the bag of toys and said something about giving the kids some hope. After leaving her gift, Gosalyn waved goodbye and took off. She waved to Drake as she passed him.  
>"Hi Dad, be back in a sec!"<p>

She darted around the corner into a dormitory. Drake scratched his forehead.

Mrs. Cavanaugh stepped up alongside him, rubbing her eyes.  
>"Is that... Gosalyn Waddlemeyer?"<p>

"The one and only," Drake replied with a proud smile. "Except she goes by 'Mallard' now. Her choice."

"My, my... I never thought I would see that child so genuinely happy. You've done a fine job raising her, Mr. Mallard."

"Yep, yep, yep. It takes a spirited person to recognize a kindred spirit and nurture it properly... But...thank you." he held a hand up by his beak and lowered his voice. "Truth be told, she's been doing most of the guiding. I've just learned how to keep up with her."

"That's more than the rest of us could do here..." Mrs. Cavanaugh sighed. "Still, I'm glad to see things have worked out so well for you two. In my line of work, each success story is nothing short of a miracle..."

"I hear that..." Drake commented softly.

"What was that?" Mrs. Cavanaugh craned her head at him.

"Huh? Oh, nothing." He nervously added. "I'd better go check on Gosalyn..." As he strode toward the door she had disappeared into, Gosalyn herself burst out of it and nearly plowed into him.

"Dad, Dad! You've gotta see this!"  
>She grabbed his hand and towed him into the room. He shrugged helplessly to Mrs. Cavanaugh and followed Gosalyn. She pointed to a couple of girls playing with their new stuffed toys. They smiled appreciatively to Gosalyn. She beamed at Drake and he returned her proud smile, ruffling her hair.<br>"That was a very nice thing you did there, Gos. I'm proud of you, Sweetie."

"Thanks, Dad. I didn't really want all that junk anyway. What would I do with it? Use it for target practice?" Gosalyn chuckled and led Drake over to her former bed, showing him the view from her window and chatting about So-and-So she used to play with and such and such. Finally she hauled him back out into the hallway, talking about her memories and the things she used to play with.

As Gosalyn rattled on, Drake heard a soft sigh behind him. He glanced back and saw Mrs. Cavanaugh standing in the hallway with her hands folded in front of her. Her eyes were dewy and she had a beautiful smile on her face, filled with wonder, gratitude, and pride. Drake smiled back at her and wrapped an arm around Gosalyn's shoulders as she continued talking.

"...Some of toys were left behind by the kids who got adopted and some were hand-me-downs donated by parents whose kids had outgrown them. A lot of those toys smelled funny 'cause they were old. There was this one doll that smelled like used diapers and we used to play this game called 'Diaper Dolly' where we'd toss the doll back and forth to music. Kinda like 'Hot Potato,' except whoever got stuck with it had to sleep with it in their bed. Gross! I wonder if they still have that sappy doll..."

Gosalyn stopped suddenly as they stepped outside. Drake raised an eyebrow. She slipped out from under his arm and ran over to a particular sidewalk square, circling it and eyeing her surroundings carefully until she found just the right spot. She ran a finger across the fence, watching the kids on the other side play a hockey game.

"Gos?" Drake asked softly, stepping up alongside her. She grinned at him with sparkling eyes.

"This is it! This is where it all began!" she said in an excited babble.

"Where what began...?"

"Duh! The spot where we first met! So much for your keen memory..." she mumbled the last bit, but her eyes still twinkled mischievously.

"Well pardon me for being more concerned with the details and nuances of my job than remembering every moment of my life..." he smirked at her, ruffling her hair.

"I'd say it was a pretty important moment in your life, considering you had just met your future 'hero'." she grinned, elbowing him playfully in the stomach.

"Hey! What is this?" he said in an equally playful tone. "Is there some kind of rule that states you have to do me bodily harm in this spot?"

"I thought you said you didn't remember everything?" she poked his arm half accusingly, half jokingly.

"Kind of hard to forget when a kid greets you with a gut punch..." he retorted.

"Well how was I supposed to know who you were? It's not like you were all over the six o'clock news. I thought only bad guys wore a mask!" Smiling, she added. "Now I know only the best wear masks."

"Yes, because..." he lowered his tone and took a dramatic stance. "Only the best know how to get into the villain's mind. And nothing does that better that a masked visage and a few special effects, plus a few well-chosen words. And now I think it's about time for these two heroes to head home."

Gosalyn pretended to be annoyed but she grinned and headed to the car.

* * *

><p>Sharp fidgeted at his desk. Everything was set. All he had to do was wait. Unfortunately waiting was proving less entertaining than it had in the past. Even with all his channels, there was absolutely nothing on TV worth watching. All that was on were cooking shows, talk shows, animal cops, pointless and poorly drawn cartoons, soap operas, politics, and other such rubbish.<p>

Thankfully Sylvester Sharky wasn't a stickler for schedules. The lawyer was more than willing to take Sharp's call early and discuss the case against Hammerhead Hannigan. With Sharp's input, Sharky was certain he could change the direction the trial was headed. And if Hammerhead got out of jail, he would owe Sharp a favor...Or at least be willing to say they were even and stop lurking at his resort! He was scaring some of the clients...

Sharp sighed. The only movement he saw outside was a family loading an RV. Finally the Mallards returned home and Sharp put on his headphones. Perhaps he could pick up an interesting tidbit to add to his devious plot... But he was disappointed. The duo was tired from their day and after watching TV for a little while they both went to bed, filling Sharp's ears with the most atrocious snoring he had ever had the misfortune of hearing! He irritably threw the headphones aside and switched off his gear for the night. No point in recording that racket! 


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The next day was more normal in some respects, yet also quite different.  
>For one thing, Drake was startled out of bed by noise in the kitchen. When he called out to Gosalyn, she hurried upstairs to reassure him.<br>"Morning Dad, nothing to worry about! You just stay here in bed while I take care of breakfast."

"YOU are fixing ME breakfast?" He stared at her.

"Sure. Isn't that what every kid does on Father's Day?"

"Well...yeah, I suppose..." Drake rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

"Well if you're going to make a big deal about it..." she crossed her arms and turned away grumpily.

"No no! It's okay. I just...wasn't..." he smiled and kissed her head. "Thanks, Sweetie. That's really thoughtful."

"No sweat!" she went back to being cheerful and eager for a challenge. She scooted back downstairs, calling over her shoulder. "Oh, and don't worry about the mess! I'll take care of everything!"

"'Mess'?" He sighed and got up to get dressed, muttering. "You'd think after two years, some people would learn how to make a simple piece of toast without supervision..." He paused in his tirade. "But it sure is sweet of Gos to think about me. Why, I remember that first Father's Day, she wanted to spend it—," his face fell. "...with her...grandfather*..."

_(*refers to "Father's Day", by Hematitebadger)_

He sighed. "Poor kid. I know I haven't been the best father in the world, but we've managed pretty well. Given the circumstances..."

He was lost in thought for a moment before he recalled the previous day and Mrs. Cavanaugh's reaction to Gosalyn's generosity. Of course he was doing all right. He had a wonderful child who wanted to show she cared by bringing him breakfast. In fact, he should probably hop back into bed and take full advantage of the holiday.  
>He did just that and stretched with a satisfied smile on his face.<p>

Gosalyn went back to rummaging in the kitchen for something to fix for breakfast. This would have much easier if Launchpad had been there to reach the cabinets for her, but she made do by climbing up on the counters.  
>About the only thing she knew how to make was toast, but for some reason the darn thing kept getting jammed and burnt everything put in it. All because she'd made one teeny mistake by putting maple syrup-covered marmalade on her bread before deciding she'd wanted it toasted. It wasn't her fault nobody told her melted maple syrup and marmalade made a sticky, gluey mess... Nor was it her fault that Dad was too cheap to buy a new toaster.<p>

She compromised by putting the bread in the oven to toast, but she hadn't taken it out in time and now she had crispy black crusts instead of golden brown toast. So what if she'd gone through half a loaf of bread trying to work with the toaster and oven. Her dad liked toast with his cereal and she was going to give it to him. Even if she had to walk over and ask Mrs. Muddlefoot to make it for her.

She hurried next door and greeted Mrs. Muddlefoot out in her flowerbed.  
>"Morning, Mrs. Muddlefoot."<p>

Binkie beamed as she turned off the watering hose. "Why, good morning Dear! Such a fine day it is! My roses are especially cheerful and..."

"That's nice. Uh, Mrs. Muddlefoot? Is it alright if I use your toaster for a minute? Ours is on the fritz again."

"Why certainly, Dear. Help yourself." Binkie said breezily before perking up. "Oh! My goodness, silly me. I just remembered what day it is! Would you like some help fixing breakfast for your father?"

"That'd be swell, if it's no problem?" Gosalyn put on her puppy face. She needn't have bothered.

"Oh, don't be silly, Gosalyn. I wouldn't have offered if I didn't want to. Come along, now. We'll make something together!"

"Uh..." Gosalyn backpedaled. She wasn't ready for a Home Economics lesson. "Gee, that's great, but I have...uh... stuff. In…the oven I needtotakeout, gottago! Bye!" Gosalyn was already back in her own house by the time she finished her sentence. She wiped her brow and leaned against the closed door for a few minutes in relief. As much as she liked the Muddlefoots, even she had her limits with Binkie's mothering.

Binkie knocked on the door soon afterwards, bearing a platter full of fresh muffins and cinnamon toast. She nattered on about the wonderful things she had planned for Herb today until she noticed the burnt smell in the air. She hurried to the kitchen and discovered the remains of Gosalyn's attempts at breakfast.  
>Binkie turned into 'General Mom' and set Gosalyn to work on trash disposal and dish washing while she went home to grab some things. She also enlisted Honker's help, having him handle the sweeping while Binkie did the cooking. Thanks to her expertise, the kitchen was quickly made presentable again and a breakfast worthy of royalty was laid out for both Gosalyn and Drake. There'd even be leftovers for Launchpad when he returned.<p>

"Are you sure you don't need help with anything else?" Binkie asked after insisting on cutting some flowers from her garden. She had just finished adding these to a vase on the kitchen table. She'd also cut a flower for a small vase to put on the breakfast tray for Gosalyn to take upstairs to her (by now ravenous) anxiously waiting father.

"Yeah, everything's taken care of. Thanks for all the help. You've been great. Have a nice day!" Gosalyn waved them both out the door.

"You're welcome. Happy Father's Day to you and Drake." Binkie beamed.

"Bye, Gosalyn." Honker waved. Once his mother was out of earshot, he added uneasily. "I hope your dad will be okay with Mom helping you out."

"He'll be fine. Thanks for everything, Honk." she gave him a quick hug and hurried back inside.

"Um. You're welcome." Honker adjusted his glasses as he found himself staring at a shut door. He hurried to catch up with his mom, who stroked his head as they continued on their way home.

* * *

><p>As the household drama played out, a pair of binoculars followed the action from behind thin lace curtains. Sharp watched smugly when Gosalyn and Drake later went out to play tackle ball in the yard.<br>Sharp chuckled and set up a camcorder to record everything for a bit, just in case it would come in handy. His meeting with Lawyer Sharky and Hannigan had gone quite well. The results would be on the six o'clock news and Horatio was in place to deliver the message.

Sharp sat back in his chair with a self-satisfied grin on his face. Things were going to heat up for one particular resident on this street very soon...

* * *

><p>Later on that evening, there was a knock on the door.<br>"Now what?" Drake muttered. He peeked out and saw a paper boy riding away on his bike. "Odd. That paper boy looked about three sizes larger than usual. Well," he shrugged his shoulders and collected the paper from the stoop. "Maybe we've got a new delivery boy."

He casually opened to the sports section and read as he walked back toward the den. Gosalyn bumped into him and he mildly scolded her for not paying attention, only to stub his toe on the couch a second later. He hopped around on one foot for a few moments before flopping on a cushion and unrolling the paper.  
>He was still reading an article about the Tealwings beating the Cardinals in the upset of the year when he noticed Gosalyn was standing motionlessly in front of him. He raised an eyebrow.<br>"If you want the sports section, you'll just have to wait a few minutes..."

She wasn't looking at him. She was transfixed by something on the front page. Drake craned around to peek at the paper. Weather, politics, an ongoing court trial, business, a new diet fad... Wait, was that someone's hand writing over the judicial article? It looked like it said "News Five at Six." And under the writing was something else. Something small and barely perceptible; like a hand, or a...talon? Before he could recall why it looked so familiar, his thoughts were interrupted by Gosalyn snatching the paper out of his hands.

"What's on at six?" she sputtered. She grabbed the remote and turned on the news.

"And, our developing story: the case of Hamilton 'Hammerhead' Hannigan versus the State of Calisota has come to a screeching halt. Just minutes ago, Mr. Hannigan's defense attorney, Sylvester Sharkey, demanded all charges be dropped, on a count of personal injury and false imprisonment by masked vigilante, Darkwing Duck."

"WHAT!" Both ducks flew to the screen.

"Mr. Hannigan was found, handcuffed and beaten unconscious, in Duckburg's Black Forest at Beak Mountain prior to his arrest. Mr. Hannigan claims his life was threatened even after he had been unarmed..." the reporter blatantly continued before Drake turned it off.

Gosalyn stomped her foot, startling Drake. "Why that big ugly cheating liar! He had a gun in my face! You saw it, Dad!"

"Yes..." Drake barely managed to break off from his own turbulent thoughts. "But he was incapacitated when you threatened his life. I'm afraid it's a fair point."

"But that's not fair! He tried to kill me first and that was after he kidnapped me several times and threatened several other people!"

"Gosalyn...!"

"Not to mention he was working for Bulba, FOWL, and that other guy...Phinny what's-his-name!"

"Look, Gos. Just because the trial is on hold, it doesn't mean he won't get a sentence! We've got him on kidnapping charges and threatening personal injury, grand larceny, embezzlement, and being Taurus Bulba's lackey. Besides, his injuries can all be explained as self defense! I mean, look at us! I'm not even a third of his size!" Drake gestured to himself, holding his arm above his head in comparison. "It'd be impossible for an ordinary person to take him on. I'll go over there tomorrow and explain things to the prosecutor. I'm sure once the jury sees all the facts, they will put him away for life. Or at least twenty years and a hefty bond. Either way, he won't be bothering us again."

"Yeah right. Like anyone bothers looking for the whole truth anymore..." Gosalyn said glumly.

"But..." Drake turned to face Gosalyn only to see her retreating up the stairs.  
>He started to follow her when the lights flashed. He glanced back in the living room.<p>

The chairs stopped spinning to reveal Launchpad. He grinned when he saw Drake. "Hey, Drake, how was your weekend?"

Drake looked anxiously back at the stairs. Gosalyn's door slammed and both ducks grimaced.

"Gee, sorry. Looks like I caught you two at a bad time. If ya don't mind my asking, what was that about?"

"I don't suppose you listened to the news on your way back...?" Drake mumbled quietly.

"Oh. Yeah. I heard something about the Hannigan case. I guess Gos is taking it pretty hard...?"

"You can say that again. I'd better talk to her."

Drake went up and opened Gosalyn's door slowly. She was on her bed, crying. He carefully sat next to her and rubbed her back. She collected herself and sat up to hug him. They held on to each other for several moments with nothing but Gosalyn's sniffles to break the relative silence. She finally eased out of Drake's embrace to grab a tissue, sitting with a thoughtful look on her face.

"So much Quiverwing Quack's sterling career..." she muttered. "Thanks to me, Grandpa may never be avenged..." She wiped her beak and sniffed.

"Hey, hey," Drake said softly, rubbing her shoulder. "It's okay."

"It's not fair!" she exclaimed through the soggy tissue. "Nobody even remembers Grandpa anymore!"

"That's not true. You remember him. I may not have met the guy, but I think of him...um, regularly."

"That's —sniff— better than me. I didn't —sniffle— even think of him this Father's Day and he was the closest thing I had to a dad before you!"

Darkwing knelt down to meet her eyes. "Gos, look at me. It's alright to let go of the past."

"But —sniff— all I have to remember him by is one snapshot of us together in front of that ramrod! —Sniiiff— I can't even think of Grandpa without thinking about Bulba and everything that happened, and now that I know what Hammerhead did...!"

"Don't go there, Gos," Darkwing warned firmly but gently. "Don't let him hurt you anymore. He doesn't deserve that power."

"But, Grandpa..."

He pulled her into another hug. "Shhh... I know it hurts. Believe me, I know. It's okay to feel all these things. But don't let it control you. The only person you really hurt is yourself. And those who care about you..."

She turned her head away and held her hands behind her back. "Sorry, Dad..."

"It's okay, Sweetie. That's what I'm here for." He smiled and stroked her hair. Something compelled him to add. "Your grandfather knows you love him and miss him. All he wants from you is for you to enjoy life and be the best you can be."

"Really...?" she looked up hopefully.

"Of course. That's what any parent wants."

"Thanks, Dad." She managed a smile and hugged him again. After a moment, she leaned back and peered at him anxiously. "Dad...?"

"Yes?" he frowned uneasily.

"Could I..." she hesitated before continuing. "...go see Grandpa?" Her beak quivered a little, afraid that he would take her request as a hint that he wasn't enough for her.

He swallowed hard, looking sad and uncomfortable, but he gave her a one-sided smile and stroked her hair.  
>"Of course, Gos. Of course...We'll go first thing in the morning..."<p>

"Yes, you do that, my friend," Sharp crooned mockingly as he watched the recording of Drake comforting Gosalyn play back on his computer. "I'll have a little surprise waiting for you... Horatio!"

"Yes, Phineas?" the gull stepped into the room, holding his hat in his hands.

"Did you get that package I requested?"

"Yes, Phineas. Everything is set up like you ordered."

"Excellent... It's almost time to set my ingenious plan into motion." he feigned a yawn. "It's getting late, my good man. Best rest up! We've got a busy day ahead of us tomorrow! By the way...how steady are your arms?"

"M-my arms?" Horatio asked, puzzled. "Well, they're a little sore from hauling all those boxes..."

"No, no, no. I mean, how good is your aim?" He pointed to a photo of Mrs. Beaker and handed Horatio an eraser to toss at it.

Momentarily confused, the lackey finally got a light bulb over his head and did as he was told. The eraser bounced off the elderly stork's beak, leaving a slight smudge on the glass.

"Ah! Perfect. I shall be implementing your skill tomorrow. That'll be all," Sharp waved dismissively.

Horatio hurried out of the study, grateful there weren't any trapdoors in this house. Sharp wasn't known for his patience with his lackeys.

As soon as the gull shut the door behind him, Sharp peered through the binoculars again, grinning.  
>"Yes. Tomorrow should prove quite interesting. Nightie night, Dark Wing... Enjoy it while you can..." he threw back his head for an evil laugh, his voice carrying to Horatio down the hall. The gull flinched at the mad cackle.<br>"Ah hahahahaha! Ah hahahahaha!"

* * *

><p>A.N. Sorry for the long delay, everyone. Chapter five should be ready soon. Also, "Lawyer Sharky" is a character created by Carl Barks and used in two comics. "The Golden Helmet," by Barks, and "The Lost Charts of Columbus," by Don Rosa.<p> 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

* * *

><p>When the Mallards' station wagon pulled out of the garage, a black sedan started up. Sharp, wearing sunglasses, waited until the blue vehicle was five car lengths ahead before pulling out from behind a parked RV to follow his target.<br>Horatio, for a change, was in the back, twiddling his thumbs anxiously.

Sharp stopped the car later and roughly handed Horatio a case as he walked away from the vehicle. Horatio followed, watching his boss staple a piece of paper to a tree trunk. Sharp then gave Horatio a set of instructions and directed him to another tree with a clear view of the walking path, the plot of land, and the paper.  
>Sharp took his leave and Horatio tried to get situated on his uncomfortable perch. He had to wait about ten minutes before a duck and a kid appeared below him. The kid was holding a small bouquet of flowers.<p>

Drake hung back in the cemetery while Gosalyn placed the flowers in the vase. He'd never get used to visiting this place, regardless of the welcoming tranquility around it. This particular plot was well manicured with flowering shrubs lining the low fence.  
>Gosalyn's grandfather had made few friends during his lifetime and most of them were colleagues from S.H.U.S.H. and the DIA (Duckburg Intelligence Agency).<br>Although Gosalyn had come here several times in the last two years with Launchpad, Drake himself had only come once. Launchpad was a little more capable of handling the emotional baggage brought on by the visits.

Plastic flowers lay strewn across the grass and gathered in shrubbery from wind and storms. Some of the flowers Drake saw in the professor's vase were transplants from other grave sites. The landscapers didn't try to match stray flowers with the original recipients.  
>As Drake watched Gosalyn kneel beside the headstone and talk softly to it, a red beam of light played across the ground in front of him. It was aimed at a headstone by a tree.<br>Drake reluctantly left his vantage point of Gosalyn to see what was going on, feeling the feathers ruffle on the back of his neck.

The light led him a few yards away before settling on a tree. Tacked to the tree's trunk was a piece of newsprint.  
>Drake thought little of it until he noticed something else taped to the paper: cutouts of Launchpad' and Gosalyn's faces. After blinking stupidly at it for a few moments, he realized why he recognized those particular expressions. He saw that photo every day in his living room! Someone had been in his house!<p>

His eyes widened and he looked around nervously, sweat beading on his brow. The laser beam was still pointing accusingly at the larger piece of paper. Drake looked and gulped.  
>It was a copy of the article on the Canard Tower explosion two years ago; the fateful day Taurus Bulba' and Darkwing Duck's lives changed forever.<br>He turned the paper over to see if there were any identifying marks on it and saw a note on the back.  
>"Do NOT alert anyone. Return to your home and wait for the next message. Act normal with your friends and everyone will remain safe. Tell anyone, and your little 'angel' will become a real one! And just so you know I'm not bluffing, be a 'doll' and check Gosalyn's room when you get home."<p>

Drake swallowed with some difficulty. He had faced countless dangers and threats on his life and others, but this threat was in a league of its own.

He glanced back at Gosalyn and froze. A small red dot several shades lighter than the fiery locks around it was centered on the back of her head. He gasped in horror and started to run to her, only to freeze a half second later as the laser shifted to the ground in front of him and plowed a line through the dirt. It returned to Gosalyn a moment later.  
>Drake bit his nails as he looked around frantically for the source of the light and the warnings. Someone knew his identity and was targeting Gosalyn. What was he going to do? He had to think of something!<p>

"Dad? Are you okay?"

He whirled around to find Gosalyn walking toward him. Had she seen the laser or the photos? No. She'd be asking about them if she had.

"Um, yeah, everything's fine. I just remembered I was supposed to...uh... Supposed to...make a date with Morgana! Yeah! And I was thinking of places to take her that aren't...so..." he looked around the cemetery, eyeing everything nervously. "Creepy."

Gosalyn rolled her eyes but she accepted the odd explanation for now without question.

* * *

><p>Sharp watched from his car with a pair of high-powered binoculars. Shortly after Drake and Gosalyn got in their vehicle, Horatio ran up to his car, plopping into the passenger seat. Sharp pulled away from the curb and eased onto the street, heading back to the house.<p>

* * *

><p>Immediately after parking the car in the garage, Drake flew into the house, forgetting to turn off the ignition.<br>Bewildered, Gosalyn turned off the car and took out the keys. She hurried after Drake to ask him what was wrong but he had too much of a head start. He was upstairs before she had even gotten out of the car.  
>She looked at the keys thoughtfully. Should she leave them on his night stand where he usually kept them? That would give her a chance to poke around for some answers...but did she even want to know? He had been really tense and nervous over the past ten or fifteen minutes. Had he seen something in the graveyard?<br>Maybe he had found a relative he had forgotten about... Or maybe he saw a ghost! Or a real life zombie! Cool beans! That would be major league awesome! But then wouldn't Darkwing Duck would have done something about it? He wouldn't just go home and forget to turn off the car. So that left the previous choice: he had seen something that upset him. Or...  
>She gulped. What if he was upset with her? She had been pretty focused on her grandpa... What if Drake thought she wanted her grandpa more than him? Oh gosh! That would be awful! She couldn't let him think that for one second!<p>

"Dad!" she hurried upstairs.

Drake froze. He had his magnifying glass in one hand and the 'gift' in the other. He had dashed into Gosalyn's room and spotted a familiar doll up on the highest shelf. He had scrambled up a chair to grab it and was examining it for further evidence.  
>Hearing Gosalyn's cry reminded him that he had to protect her. Thinking quickly, he tossed the chair back in place and scrambled into the bathroom, locking the door behind him.<p>

"Dad?" Gosalyn asked from outside the door a few moments later. Her voice was full of concern. "Are you okay?"

Swallowing back his apprehension, Drake took a few deep breaths before answering.  
>"Sure, I'm swell. Just...uh...just be another minute or so."<p>

Gosalyn made a face. "Alright...as long as you're okay. The keys will be in your room."

"Great, Sweetie." Drake answered as he glanced at the doll in his hand. He sank tremblingly to the floor. "Thanks..."

He sighed with relief when Gosalyn's footsteps retreated to her own room. That was too close! Thank goodness he'd had the presence of mind to grab the doll first and duck in here.  
>Now that he had a few moments of privacy, he examined what he had found.<br>It was a Derek Blunt doll. He recalled the mark on the newspaper from last night. He'd wondered if it was a hawk's talon but he hadn't looked at the paper since. Now he didn't need to. This doll was the second clue.  
>Phineas Sharp was Derek Blunt's archenemy. But how did Sharp figure out who he was? And where was Sharp hiding? It had to be somewhere nearby for him to be able to follow Drake so quickly. Plus he had to have been really close to have pointed that laser...<br>A light bulb went off in Drake's head.

Sneaking downstairs as quietly as he could, Drake took the entrance he had installed in the garage to the tower, hoping to find video surveillance of Sharp arriving and leaving the cemetery. However, his hopes were quickly dashed. The computer was agonizingly slow turning on and when he finally got to a screen he could work with, everything was suddenly filled with a laughing Jolly Roger in the shape of a vulture skull.  
>The tense crime fighter started, tumbling head over heels out of his chair. He pulled himself upright and stared at the computer like it had suddenly become a traitor.<p>

"How...? When...?" Drake hesitantly reached around his chair to click on the screen again. Everything went black. Drake impulsively slammed his head into the desk, yelping and growling at his own stupidity. Nevertheless, even through the haze of pain, his mind was reeling.

How did Sharp figure it all out? Darkwing had only met him twice: once on a case with S.H.U.S.H. Special Agent Derek Blunt; the other was just a couple of weeks ago in Duckburg at an underground FOWL facility. Sharp hadn't even been a major player in that case. He'd mainly ordered his henchmen around and apparently he'd been the one directing Hammerhead Hannigan's actions...

Drake was mystified, but he should have suspected something when Director Hooter told him that the search for Sharp had turned up empty. He needed to figure out what he was up against. Any little tidbit of information on Sharp might be useful...  
>Fortunately his super computer was not the only technologically advanced piece of equipment he owned. He hurried over to the Thunderquack, intending on using its onboard computer. However the chairs started whirring before he could reach it.<br>Drake went to his lab table, hoping whoever was coming would assume he'd been doing an experiment the whole time.

Gosalyn hopped out of the chair before it stopped spinning and looked around for her father. She soon joined him, eagerly peering at all the glass tubes and beakers.  
>"Keen gear! What are you working on?"<p>

Drake grimaced, just now realizing the fallacy in his ploy.  
>"Um...nothing, really. Just, uh, cleaning up a little."<p>

"Bummer..." Gosalyn made a face. She dashed off somewhere.

Drake tried to see where she had run off to and finally spotted her up on the platform. He gasped. She was getting ready to turn on his computer.

"Don't touch that!" he yelled, rushing up to stop her.

"Don't touch what?" she asked as she proceeded to press the power button.

"That...!" He tugged at his feathers exasperatedly. "You just did exactly what I told you not to do! Now get away from there before you damage something!"

"I will not!" Gosalyn protested, shoving his hand off her chair. "I was just going to play a video game. And for your information, it's E Rated."

"Well, that's, uh, that's an improvement..." Drake admitted slowly. Then he finally came up with an idea. "But I'm running a software update and I don't want to chance losing the connection so it's hands off for the time being..."

"Okay, fine..." Gosalyn grumbled, grudgingly climbing out of the chair. She looked up at him, studying his face. "Wait a second here... I'm supposed to believe that in the last fifteen minutes since we've been home, you've been running a software update AND you decided to clean your chemistry set? What's really going on?"

"Yipe!" Drake thought to himself. To Gosalyn, he again stated. "Nothing is going on. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to get back to what I was doing."  
>He made a show of picking up several beakers at once while he tried to think of something. Inevitably one of the beakers slid out of his grasp and crashed on the floor. "Great," he sighed, rolling his eyes.<p>

"Well, I can see that you are busy, so I'll come back when you're done," Gosalyn said good-naturedly, getting ready to take off again.

"Ah tah tah tah, just a second there, Gos. You can help by getting the broom and dustpan." Drake said as he balanced the rest of his armload while walking over to the sink he used for rinsing his lab equipment.

"The broom? That's no fair! I didn't even break it! Why do I have to do the manual labor?"

"Because it's good practice. And because I said so!"

Gosalyn stormed off to collect the cleaning equipment from the closet.

Drake dumped his armload and took a garbage bag over to the broken glass.  
>Gosalyn returned and sulkily held out the dust pan.<br>Drake let her sweep the mess into the pan and empty it while he checked to make sure they had gotten all the pieces. As he bent over to peek under the table, one of the notes fell out of his pocket. He snatched it up hurriedly.

"What was that?" Gosalyn asked, making him grimace.

"'What was what'?" he played dumb. Gosalyn put her hands on her hips. Drake grinned sheepishly before producing a sheet of paper he had managed to swap out with the real note from behind his back. "Oh, this? This is nothing. Just a blank piece of stationary I was going to dissect down to its most basic elements to determine the difference between the various companies that produce cold pressed stock board."

As he'd hoped, Gosalyn was quickly bored and shrugged off his explanation as another one of his eccentricities. She picked up a video game controller and hopped onto the couch.  
>Drake grimaced. He had to get her out of here! If she hung around long enough, she might start looking for the letters he'd hidden. Then he'd REALLY be in a big mess! "Er, why don't you call the Muddlefoots and ask if you can eat with them tonight?"<p>

"What for and how come?" Gosalyn challenged crossly.

"Because...I haven't had a chance to go grocery shopping yet."

"'Groceries'...? This isn't by chance a reverse psychology thing, is it? You know, making something else seem more appealing to avoid the subject..."

He sighed. "Look Gos. I was used to working alone before I met you, and there are times when I prefer solitude to get my thoughts in order. Now is that such a bad thing?"

"I guess not..." Gosalyn frowned, looking away. She crossed her arms and added firmly. "But don't get so wrapped up in solitude that you forget you have a family!" With that parting statement, she walked off.

"Gos, wait!" Drake started. She looked back expectantly. He tried to come up with something to say, anything, that would make her feel better, but the only thing that came to mind was the truth. There was no way he could risk it. He slouched. "I'll...just be a minute."

"Right," she said, resuming her stride. "Like I haven't heard that one before..." she muttered crossly under her breath before hopping into a spinning chair.

Drake sighed heavily and tucked both notes into the safest place in the tower: the biggest encyclopedia on the bookshelf.

He returned home to find Gosalyn had taken his suggestion and gone to the Muddlefoots. It felt strangely lonely without her hanging around, but it was just as well. She didn't need to see him like this.  
>He paced around the den. Part of him still hoped this was nothing more than a dream or a dirty prank and that it would all be over by morning. However, he sensed this case would only get more difficult by the minute. He could only hope that Sharp's promised instructions would arrive soon and be fairly harmless.<p>

He didn't have long to wait: a delivery man showed up at the door not five minutes later. Drake signed for the padded envelope and took it to his room to analyze. The contents confused him at first as it was just an envelope full of shredded paper. Then it occurred to him that the scraps might be a clue and he started putting pieces together.

It took a good twenty minutes or so but he soon saw a pattern and went for it. When he stepped back to look at the picture, his jaw dropped to the floor. It was a collage of photos, each one available publicly on Gaggle but, when put together, told a disturbing story. One corner had the picture of Professor Waddlemeyer and Gosalyn superimposed on top of the original Canard Tower. Next to that were several newspaper articles featuring various Junior League sports teams, all of which Gosalyn starred in as team captain. Drake was in the background of a few. Next to these were some pictures of Darkwing Duck. There were even a few photos with Launchpad in the background. But most disturbing was the enlarged picture of Drake Mallard with a mask and hat penciled on top of it.  
>The note written on top of the pictures didn't assuage Drake's fears any.<em><br>"Greetings, Dark Wing... Are you enjoying my housewarming gift? I thought your little girl might like a new doll to play with. I know everything...about you, your fake daughter, and your loyal Duckburg friend. If you don't want this information to become common knowledge, I suggest you do whatever I tell you. I also have eyes and ears all over your house, and your precious hideout as well, so no funny business! Understand?  
>"In case you get any 'heroic' ideas, I have another surprise hidden somewhere in your house! Just a little something that will send you and your precious family all flying sky high! And that is a crash you and that ridiculous pilot of yours WON'T walk away from. Just to make certain you're extra cooperative, I have charges rigged in various places throughout the city set to blow at moment's notice.<br>"Now...If you would like to know what happens next, meet me on the rooftop across the street from the Drake motel at midnight. Alone, mind you. No tagalongs or cops. That includes your dear friends at S.H.U.S.H. and your neighbor's little boy.  
>"Gotcha!<br>P. Sharp"  
><em>  
>Drake gritted his teeth, clenching his fists. There would be no turning back now.<p> 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Midnight couldn't come fast or slow enough for the tense crime fighter. He tried to keep his mind off of his dilemma by going back to the tower and conducting some chemical experiments for his arsenal of gas, but his mind wasn't on it and he accidentally filled the whole tower with smog. Yep...homemade smog. And boy was it potent!  
>On the positive side, airing out the tower and his clothes gave Darkwing something to focus on, but on the negative, it served as a bitter reminder not to mix work and emotions.<p>

He was still plugging in fans when Launchpad arrived at the tower..

Launchpad coughed and fanned around his face. "Phew! Reminds me of the time I was stuck in traffic on my way to get the car's air conditioner fixed. —cough, cough— Hey, DW. How're things going?"

"I think that answer's pretty obvious, even for you, LP..." Darkwing muttered, coughing a little as he plugged in the last fan he could find. He hopped down from his perch, foregoing his usual graceful flip to simply land on his feet. He walked back to his work table.  
>"The last time I used this recipe was when those organized arachnids were trying to steal pizza toppings... I thought it was time to try it again but it went up in smoke —cough— literally..." Drake realized something was missing... He looked around and saw the supercomputer. His thoughts replayed the incident with Gosalyn earlier and he started to panic.<br>"Where is Gosalyn? Shouldn't she be back from the Muddlefoots by now?"

"Ah, relax, DW." Launchpad replied as he checked the Ratcatcher's fuel gauge. "Binkie called and said Gos wanted to spend the night with them. I told her that was okay with you and dropped off some of her things. Gos seemed a little...well, cross when I saw her. I thought you could use a bit of help. Or at least someone to talk to..."

_"You have no idea..."_ Darkwing thought. Out loud he said, "Thanks for the offer, Pal, but I've got everything under control." _Sort of..._  
>His eye chanced across the encyclopedia he had stuffed the letters in and Sharp's tersely worded warning came back to him.<br>_"I have eyes and ears all over your house, and your precious hideout as well, so no funny business!"_  
>Anything Darkwing said would be recorded. He couldn't let anything slip to his sidekick.<p>

Darkwing thought hard and came up with an innocuous tidbit of truth.  
>"Gos was just upset that I didn't let her play video games on my supercomputer."<p>

"Oh. Okay," Launchpad shrugged good-naturedly and returned his attention to the Ratcatcher. He fingered a bullet hole in the hood and let out a slow whistle. "The Ratcatcher took quite a beating on that Cheese Gang caper. A little higher and we might have been stopped in our tracks."

"Yeah... Remind me to have a word with the commissioner about prison security next time we save the city." Darkwing grumbled.

Launchpad didn't reply. He had turned on the police radio and was listening intently. The usual radio chatter was being broken up intermittently by static. Launchpad tried adjusting the dial, but it only made the static worse.  
>"Boy, this reminds me of the first time Megavolt blacked out the city." Launchpad commented. "Or was that the third time...?"<p>

"Hmm..." Darkwing craned his head. "Sounds like the same kind of static we heard when Megavolt was playing with his lightbulbs after his luminescent heist."

"Oh boy! Sounds like a case for Darkwing Duck!" Launchpad grinned and proudly tugged at his jacket. "And his handy dandy side kick!"

Darkwing hurried over to impede Launchpad's progress. "Sorry Pal, but there's no need for a sidekick on this case..."

"Why not? I can be a hero!" Launchpad retorted.

"Sure you can! That's beside the point! Sometimes...uh, most of the time... Oh, never mind! I just want to be alone for tonight! Is that too much to ask?"

"Uh... No problems here... Are ya sure you don't want me to at least fly you to the power company? It'll be a lot faster..."

"Thanks, but no thanks. The Ratcatcher will get me there in plenty of time." Darkwing zipped behind a changing screen and emerged in a smog-free costume, ready for action. He didn't waste any time.

Although Megavolt had given him a good excuse to leave the tower, Darkwing paid little attention to the villain. For one thing, Megavolt was at his own home, working on some sort of experiment. While normally that would be incentive enough for Darkwing to barge in on him, it was almost time to meet Sharp.  
>Darkwing sighed and moved on. He didn't dare try Sharp's patience by being late.<p>

It didn't take him long to reach the Drake Motel downtown. He parked in the alley and grappled to the adjacent rooftop. Foregoing his usual dramatic entrance and speech, he peered around suspiciously, half afraid that he had missed some important detail in that note.  
>Then a shadow fell over him and a mocking voice spoke.<br>"Greetings, Dark-Wing..."

Common sense and fear took the backdoor as Darkwing spun around to face his foe, holding an indignant finger in the vulture's face.  
>"That's 'Darkwing'!" he snapped. "One word, not two! And what's the meaning of all this? It's one thing to threaten an entire city with a dastardly device, but threatening a child's life at home? That's a new low even for you, Sharp! What do you want?"<p>

"Only the usual," the vulture crooned, not the least bit ruffled by the crime fighter's fury. "Money, fame, resources..." He minced closer and lowered his voice confidingly. "Perhaps a few new friends..." He pulled some papers out of his briefcase and proffered them to the duck.

Darkwing seized them with a suspicious glare and glanced at them. Nothing new here. Sharp knew where his house was, where his hideout was, who his neighbors were, and who his family was.  
>"So what?" Darkwing wadded up the photos and tossed them back at Sharp. "Just because you know all this doesn't mean I should cater to your every whim and whimsy!"<p>

"Oh really?" Sharp raised an eyebrow. "Well then, I suppose it was all a waste of time. I'll just set off the bombs I planted on the bridge, Canard Tower, and on Avian Way and return home... Ciao!" He started to walk away but just as he'd expected, Darkwing rushed to stop him.

"Wait! You can't just blow up half of St. Canard! That's...that's...criminal!"

"And you're surprised...?" Sharp raised an eyebrow.

"Well...no. It's just that almost every other criminal in the city has succeeded in destroying part of it! If you just blow it up and leave, the media will give someone else the credit!" Darkwing fumbled, doing his best to stall and wheedle information out of the villain.

"Yes," the vulture yawned. "You make a point, but I fail to see why this should be of any concern to me. Especially since I'm not taking any of the credit. YOU are!"

"That's precisely—Huh?" Darkwing's accusingly pointed finger dropped as he went over what Sharp had just said. He got up in the villain's face. "What do you mean I'm 'taking the credit'?"

"Oh it's quite simple. I have a nice press kit to drop off before I take my leave. In it, they will not only find my carefully collected evidence of your identity, but also your plans to take over the city."

"What! That's preposterous! Why I'd never...!" Darkwing paused mid rant and rushed over to the fallen papers, going through them more carefully. He saw that, in addition to the pictures he'd already seen, there were also images of Negaduck in action, color reversed so that anyone would think it was Darkwing Duck stealing, vandalizing, and destroying city property.  
>Darkwing poured over the images a little longer before giving the expectant vulture his full attention.<br>"So what? You'll blame me for Negaduck's crimes? The city knows my evil double's tricks! The public won't be fooled!"

"Perhaps, but they might not be so accommodating once they lose their work places and transportation system."

Darkwing gulped. He knew just how 'forgiving' the city's citizens and public officials were over minor damages. If they blamed him for destroying the city, it wouldn't matter if he was a good guy or not. He'd be chased out of town at best!

"Of course, all of this could be avoided..." Sharp continued breezily. "IF you do everything I say. In return, you will be free to do...whatever it is you normally do with your life," Sharp waved his hand dismissively. "Hang out with friends, travel the countryside, skulk the rooftops... And I will personally assure you that your friends will be entirely safe. FOWL will leave the common citizens alone in their ploys and my ingenious plan will never come into play. Cross me, and your city will be..." Sharp tossed a Blunt doll in the air and ripped its head off. "Well, you get my drift..." he chuckled maliciously.

Darkwing gulped. He put on a brave face and straightened.  
>"Yeah right! Like I'm supposed to take you at your word? Ha! Only an idiot would believe that FOWL will leave the city alone..."<p>

"Perhaps..." Sharp said lightly, toying with the file folder. "But if I were you, I would wager it worth the gamble...considering your fake daughter's life is at stake!" He hissed. He smirked and added. "By the way... How did Gosalyn like her doll?"

Darkwing snarled and flew at Sharp, grabbing the vulture by the throat before Sharp could so much as blink. He squeezed. Hard.

Sharp gasped, startled by the turn of events. He swiveled his head around to look Darkwing in the eye.  
>"You're...you're bluffing..." Sharp forced a smirk. "You're a coward! —Gasp— You couldn't..." The villain choked. "You're incapable of killing...anyone in cold blood."<p>

Darkwing gaped for a second, almost releasing his grip, but then he grit his teeth and glared back at the criminal. "Who said anything about killing?" he asked in a deceptively conversational tone. "All I have to do is wait until you're unconscious and haul you to the police!"

Sharp got a crafty look on his face and pulled something out of his pocket.  
>"Go ahead...!" he whispered hoarsely. "Do your worst! —cough— You'll...level half the...city...while you're...at it!"<p>

"What are you talking about?"

Sharp held the device within the mallard's line of sight.

Darkwing gasped. It was a remote detonator! He sweated nervously before recalling why he had Sharp by the throat to begin with. His eyes narrowed.  
>"Where is the bomb!"<p>

Sharp glared at him.

"Where!" Darkwing snarled in his face.

"Where do you think...?" Sharp hissed, meeting Darkwing's glare with one of his own while taking advantage of the slightly loosened grip on his throat to take a deep breath.

Darkwing tightened his grip, digging each of his fingertips into the vulture's skin. It was pitifully easy to wrap his hands around the narrow neck and watch the monster suffocate. If he had stopped to look at himself, Darkwing would have been shocked by the amount of calm he was projecting.  
>For a crime fighter who, not too long ago, had advised his protege not to use any more force than necessary, he wasn't overly upset over breaking his own rule. But that was before Sharp had personally threatened to kill his little girl, and his friends, and expose Darkwing's identity. Darkwing couldn't take the risk. He should take this opportunity to stop Sharp. But how?<p>

His ego said _"Atta boy, Darkwing! Give that buzzard what for! He's only getting what he deserves!"_  
>His conscience said<em> "Let go! If you squeeze too hard you might kill him!"<em>  
>His mind said <em>"Just hold onto him a little bit longer. Once he's unconscious, you can haul him to jail."<em>  
>So what should he do? He had to choose one thing or another...<p>

Reluctantly, Darkwing released his grip. Sharp fell to his knees, gasping and choking.

"Oh come on!" Darkwing snapped at him. "I didn't squeeze that hard! Just take a few slow breaths and you'll be fine!"

Sharp did as he was told, slowly rising to his feet. He stared down at Darkwing with an odd mixed expression.  
>Darkwing felt a momentary thrill of fear. What had he done? He'd given up his only chance to control the situation!<p>

"That...was...incredible...!" Sharp gasped.

"Huh?" Darkwing thought to himself.

"Incredibly Stupid! Don't you realize I could snap your neck for such an offense!"

"Likewise, 'Pal'!" Darkwing mumbled, still grouchy from his internal battle.

The vulture rubbed his throat thoughtfully. "Well, Darkwing, it appears that I've underestimated you... —cough—" Sharp's eyes hardened. "I shall not repeat that mistake again...! However, this has proven that you are precisely the duck for the job I have in mind..."

"And what job would that be? Robbing a curator shop?" Darkwing muttered crossly.

"Oh, nothing so droll. I could hire someone less flamboyant to get the job done. No, I want you..." he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. "To steal..." he said the last part in a whisper. "Canardium..."

"'Canardium'?" Darkwing jumped. "That's one of the most radioactive elements on the planet! Just a few seconds exposure to it causes hiccups, death, and a host of other side effects!" He crossed his arms and turned his back. "No, I won't do it! It's not worth the risks..."

"Not even to protect...a certain little redhead?" Sharp sneered.

Darkwing squeezed his fists, struggling to contain himself. He wanted to leap on the affronting buzzard and wring the life (or at least the breath) out of him again. But...for Gosalyn's sake...

"Alright." Darkwing's shoulders slumped. "I'll... I'll do whatever you want."

In the quiet moment that ensued, Darkwing heard the distinctive sound of glass breaking. Peeking over the ledge, he saw a masked miscreant exiting a store down the street with a bag slung over his shoulder. Darkwing reached instinctively for his gas gun.

"Ah ah ah...!" Sharp waved his detonator in the crime fighter's face. "Remember... I still hold all the cards here."

"But..." Darkwing blinked.

"Seriously, Darkwing, it shouldn't be that hard of a decision to make!" Sharp rolled his eyes dramatically before smirking again. "Unless, of course, you value the contents of a safe MORE than your little neighborhood. What are the chances that your sidekick and your precious little girl are home right now anyway...?"

Darkwing clenched his fists, trembling with hard-held nerves. "Okay, okay. You win."

Sharp grinned cruelly. "Excellent...Now, first I need to make a little cash withdrawal. Go to the First National Bank and bring back no less than four million in bills and bullion."

Darkwing jumped in the air. "WHAT! Darkwing Duck, steal!"

"Those were the terms. You did say 'anything'..."

"Dooohhh...! Fine!" Darkwing muttered through his teeth.

"Good fellow. Now go make our withdrawal. Remember!" Sharp raised a finger warningly. "No cops, no friends, and no tricks! I'll be expecting you in an hour."

Darkwing nodded and headed toward the ledge as he replayed the orders in his mind. He paused with one leg straddling the ledge and looked back in askance. "But what if I can't make it in that time frame? I haven't been inside that bank since the city rebuilt it! What if I run into problems?"

"I still expect you within less than two hours!" Sharp growled. "But I'm not entirely unreasonable... Take this." He tossed a cell phone to him, which Darkwing caught and glanced at. "This will be my means of contacting you from here out. I will be checking on you periodically so I advise that you keep it close. Hehehe. Have a nice day..." He turned to go, then looked back at Darkwing with a horrible grin on his face.  
>"GOTCHA! HAHAHAHA!"<p>

Darkwing grimaced from the vulture's laugh but he didn't stick around to argue any further. He vaulted into the Ratcatcher and took off.

Sharp watched him go with a toothy grin before dusting off his top hat and setting it back on his head. He tucked the detonator in his pocket after pressing a button to disarm it and twirled his cane on his fingers as he walked casually down the stairs and out into a windowless alley.  
>"Heehee. That costumed buffoon is eating out of my hand, just as I expected!"<p>

The masked bandit approached as Sharp watched Darkwing drive down the street. Sharp waited until the the bandit's shadow fell upon him before acknowledging the thief's presence.  
>"Well done, Horatio..."<p>

Horatio took off the mask and bulky sweater.  
>"Uh...thanks, Phineas," he said uncertainly. Compliments were rare and usually served with an extra set of demands. "Where to now?"<p>

"Home base. Our job is done here. All that's left to do is watch and make sure that idiot does what he's been told!"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

"_The First National Bank... Perfect._.." Darkwing thought despairingly as he gazed up at the small white building's brand new, greco-roman facade. "_As many times as this place has been robbed or sustained property damage, they should change its name to 'Fifth National. Or 'Irrational...' Sheesh_."

He carefully pinpointed the location of the security cameras along the building's perimeter and sighed. He was already on camera... He didn't even have the heart to pretend that he was patrolling. He drove off and ducked into an unlit alley to give himself time to think without being observed.

"Steady, Darkwing..." he told himself. "You broke into a bank with Tuskernini, and you broke into McDuck's money bin. Both times you did it without setting off any alarms, right? You can do this..."

He tugged on his collar. In spite of the warm temperature, he felt cold with dread. Any slip-up on his part and —gulp— Gosalyn might be killed!

"You have to do this. For Gosalyn's sake..." he reminded himself, hardening his resolve. He swallowed again. "Well... Here goes nothing..."

He grapple hooked to the rooftops and leapt onto the bank. Flipping through the air, he landed on the roof...and scrambled backwards as he spied a motion sensor just in the nick of time.

"Whoa!" He wiped a bead of sweat off his brow. He'd have to be more alert. If the police caught him, there was no telling what would happen to Gosalyn!

"Gosalyn..." Darkwing fought back a tear as his thoughts wandered from the situation at hand. Poor Gos was getting the bad end of the deal no matter how he looked at the scenario. Either he does what he's told and risks his own neck, possibly leaving her without a father, or he stands his ground and loses everything and everyone! All while she's at home, oblivious to the whole ugly mess, and there was no way he could tell her without further risking her life!

While his thoughts were occupied, Darkwing infiltrated the bank. He opened the skylight with little effort and dropped down with his grappling hook and rope. He had the presence of mind to spray a can of mist, revealing all the motion sensors. He effortlessly stepped over and crawled under the beams of light. He also paused here and there to strategically place smoke canisters to block the security cameras.

He remained engaged with his own thoughts, reeling in horror at imagined scenarios that could occur to Gosalyn, including a vivid dream he'd had a year ago. In that dream, he had seen Taurus Bulba shaking Gosalyn and throwing her from the top of Canard Tower. He recalled an improbable but horrid scene where Megavolt had killed Launchpad. And he had watched helplessly as Bulba's men gunned down Morgana and her family. Parts of the dream were fuzzy but what he recalled now, as he once again put his reputation, freedom, and his family's life at stake, was enough to make his feathers stand on end. He recalled some of the things that happened to people who had gone up against Sharp in the past as well.

The villain had come up with some hideous and unconventional ways of eliminating his opponents. Luring two S.H.U.S.H. agents to an ice cream factory and arranging for them to fall in the Popsicle vat and freezing them... Setting up another agent so that he was ingested by a snake... Plus who could forget the infamous canning factory incident. Then there was the agent who met up with a guillotine and the one who was dropped from a helicopter into a river filled with aggressive crocodiles. Sharp was even cruel to his assistants, treating them like mere servants. Plus he was known for tossing cleavers at sales representatives or loan sharks.

These horrors and more were enough to keep Darkwing in a semi-trance-like state as he opened the vault. His trained ear and fingers made short work of the combination lock and he hardly noticed his hands reached in seemingly of their own accord and grabbed fistfuls of money, stashing them in a loot bag.

He might have gone through the entire robbery without a conscious thought of what he was doing if one of the wads of bills hadn't slipped out of his bag and landed on the floor in front of his foot. He stepped down on it and slipped, landing right in the middle of a motion sensing beam. A light started flashing.

"Yu-oh!"

Alarms started blaring and lights filled the darkened building. The police! What was he going to do? If he got caught, Sharp might...!

Darkwing shook his head and tightened his fist. _No_. He wasn't going to get caught. He'd make sure of it!

Darkwing set off the fire alarm and placed more smoke bombs around the lobby, obscuring the view from the windows. Then he grappled back up to the skylight and flipped onto the roof. Cartwheeling, he avoided the security sensors and fired his grappler at the adjacent building, swinging away from the crime scene and the sirens.

He heaved the loot into the Ratcatcher's sidecar with a heavy sigh. He was a thief, now. There was no turning back from this point. He had to go on...

His phone vibrated. It was a text informing him where to drop off the money. He started up the Ratcatcher and pulled out onto the street, conspicuously headed away from the scene of the crime. He ground his teeth together as more sirens rushed to the scene of the crime. He sped up, wishing he could block out the memory of what he had done and what he still had to do.

Minutes later, he pulled into a vacant parking garage. Half the lights were burnt out and only one other vehicle was there. The driver was leaning against the passenger door, his hat shadowing his face. Darkwing still recognized him by his profile. It was Horatio.

"You got the loot?" Horatio asked levelly, sounding bored.

Darkwing's blood boiled. Why would he come here if he didn't have it? That was a dumb question!

Swallowing back his irritation, he answered affirmatively and reached into the sidecar. The bag had settled between the seat and floor so it took a bit of wresting with both hands to extract it. Finally, after some grunting and irate muttering, Darkwing hoisted it high enough for Horatio to see.

"Okay. Drop it beside the column on your left." Horatio gestured past Darkwing's shoulder.

Darkwing saw the spot in question and walked over to it, letting the bag slide off his shoulder with a thump. It stirred up a cloud of dust, making him cough. Making a mental note not to do that in the future, Darkwing stepped away from the bag. A horrible thought suddenly occurred to him. He hadn't counted! What if it wasn't enough?

Horatio walked over and hoisted the bag over his shoulder. He tossed it carelessly in the car and got into the driver's seat.

Noticing Darkwing watching him, he said nonchalantly. "I guess you can go now."

"Uh...Thanks...?" Darkwing replied awkwardly. He watched the car take off with the stolen goods before sighing and returning to the Ratcatcher. He drove off with a heavy heart and conscience.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8 **

Gosalyn woke up the next morning feeling something was off. It wasn't obvious at first but as she got dressed and munched on her cereal, she realized the house seemed quieter than usual. The only snoring she heard was Launchpad's. But she could have sworn Dad had returned last night. He'd come in to give her his usual goodnight kiss while she was dozing. Did he leave again this morning?

She peeked in his room and breathed a sigh of relief. He was still in bed, laying semi-curled on top of the sheets. Gosalyn softly closed the door and waited for him to start snoring. Several moments went by. Then she heard the sheets rustle. He was awake.

"Dad...?" she asked softly, cracking the door open again.

He sighed wearily. "Yes, Gosalyn?"

His voice wasn't very reassuring. "Are you okay?" She asked.

"Sure, sure... —Yawn— I just...didn't get any sleep, that's all."

She shrugged it off and changed subjects as she walked into the room and sat on his bed. "So...how did things go with Megavolt last night?"

"Nothing happened. It was just a false alarm..."

Gosalyn frowned. "But Launchpad said the static..."

"It was just the radio station having technical difficulties. Nothing that needed Darkwing Duck's attention."

"So, what'd you do all night if you weren't fighting Megavolt?"

"I just drove around as usual." Drake replied as he rolled over.

Gosalyn knitted her brows, still not believing everything he was saying. As her eyes adjusted to the light, she got a good look at his face.

"Boy, you look like you just got back from a date with Morgana. A dinner date..." she added wryly.

"Thanks..." he muttered sarcastically. "I have seen better days, but I'm okay, Gos. I'm just...tired."

Seeing her expression, he sighed and reached into the drawer on his nightstand, pulling out his wallet. "Why don't you have Launchpad or Mrs. Muddlefoot take you to the video store or the arcade?"

"Bribery? You expect me to just drop the subject and leave you like this?" She put her hands on her hips.

"I expect to enjoy a nice peaceful nap until you get back!" He mumbled, pulling the covers over his head.

Gosalyn tapped her foot for a second, then grabbed the money. "Okay, you talked me into it. Later!"

Off she went.

Drake sighed and burrowed deeper under the covers.

* * *

><p>Gosalyn got Launchpad to take her to the video arcade for a couple of hours. On their way home, they drove past the First National Bank, seeing police and CSI vehicles along with news vans gathered outside. Gosalyn anxiously switched on the radio.<p>

The report said so far there were no suspects and the police were still uncovering evidence, but what had been revealed was a clip from the security footage outside the bank. It showed Darkwing Duck on his motorcycle, studying the bank BEFORE it was robbed. And then he drove away!

The report went on to say that during the robbery, someone was captured on camera, lurking in the shadows. Witness reports confirmed that a motorcycle was heard driving away before police arrived on the scene, leading to the conclusion that the suspect used one for their escape.

Gosalyn and Launchpad exchanged worried glances. From the description of the robbery, it was almost like... No. That was ridiculous. Darkwing wouldn't rob a bank! That was something Negaduck would do. Still, something was amiss. If Darkwing hadn't stopped or tracked down those criminals, then what did he do last night?

As soon as they got back, Gosalyn rushed into Drake's room and pounced on his stomach. As he grumbled and caught his breath, Gosalyn pointed an accusing finger in his face.

"Alright! Where were you last night and why didn't you stop those bank robbers?"

"'Bank robbers'?"

"You should know: you were THERE, right in front of the First National Bank just minutes before it was robbed!"

"What! Now hold the phone. I LEFT because I didn't see anything worth investigating! I didn't stop any crimes because I didn't SEE any! What's the big deal?" he retorted.

"I thought Negaduck was supposed to be in jail," Gosalyn added, sounding like she had changed the subject.

"Far as I know, he still is..." Drake replied, confused. "Why?"

"Whoever robbed the bank drove away on a motorcycle! You were THERE, Dad! You had to have seen or heard something! Why didn't you stop the robbers?"

"So I made a mistake!" Drake exclaimed, raising his arms in frustration.

"A 'mistake'! What happened to pursuing criminals and tracking down leads?" Gosalyn jabbed her finger into Drake's bill.

"I will get around to it AFTER I get caught up with my sleep. Now if you don't mind..." He gave her a glare before flopping back on his pillow and pulling the covers to his chin.

"You've had all morning and afternoon to sleep! Come on, Dad! We should get to the bottom of this before the trail grows cold!"

"'We'?" he asked sharply, lowering the covers to glare at her.

"Well, yeah... I am your apprentice after all... Right?" Gosalyn tucked her ams behind her back, looking vulnerable and nervous.

Drake sighed. "Right... Now I promise, I will get right on the case as soon as possible. No matter how far they run, no matter where they hide, Darkwing Duck always catches the culprits!"

"With a little help from... QUIVERWIIING Quack!" Gosalyn echoed, imitating Drake's proud pose.

"Yeeeah...About that..." he started uneasily.

Gosalyn whirled on him. "But you promised!"

"I promised I would track down the criminals, AND I agreed that you are my apprentice. I did not say you would be working this case with me." Drake crossed his arms.

"But Dad...!"

"No 'buts' Gosalyn," He stayed firm. "I'm your father and what I say goes!"

"But...!" Realizing she wasn't going to get anywhere with him, she sulked. "Fine... Be that way!" She slammed the door behind her, making Drake flinch.

* * *

><p>Sharp highly enjoyed watching and listening to the proceedings at the Mallard house. The drama and the laughable situations that duck got into were far more entertaining than anything on television. Ah...being a villain was so much fun!<p>

And just to be even more diabolical, he snuck across the street and tormented Drake by playing a laser pointer across his bedroom windows before hurrying back to his house. Snickering, he watched the footage to see what Drake's reaction was. It was precisely what he'd expected from the fool.

Drake yelped in surprise when he saw the red line on his bed and dove to the floor, getting tangled up in his blanket in the process.

Gosalyn and Launchpad came up to check on him and Drake, seeing the laser still playing across his walls, drove both of them downstairs, fumbling to come up with an excuse. Both sidekick and girl were flabbergasted but they went along with him. Drake then insisted that he was going to start fixing dinner now and that they should go watch TV at the Muddlefoots, or at the tower, or anywhere except here. Or better yet, go out and pick up lunch to tide them over until dinner. He settled with that excuse and chased them both out to the car.

The whole charade was hilarious in Sharp's eyes. Oh, the expressions on their faces! The pilot and the kid both seemed to think their dear head of household had lost his marbles. They left to get lunch like Mallard told them to. And then Mallard went on the defense by moving tables and chairs and the couch against the walls to form a bunker against the perceived threat.

After laughing himself to tears, Sharp called the miserable oaf and told Mallard that his "men" were simply changing shift and there was no cause for alarm. Mallard sounded both relieved and ticked off. Sharp fought the urge to chuckle until after he bid the ranting duck "Good day." Then he had another laugh at Drake's expense while the mallard irately put his house back to order, grumbling the whole time about stupid villainous lackeys and his own stupid luck.

Sharp took the rest of the afternoon off to try a restaurant he'd heard about. It turned out to be every bit as good as he'd heard and he told Horatio to sneak in back and steal a couple of bottles of wine. Horatio did as he was told and Sharp relaxed at home in front of his TV for a little while, feeling quite pleased with himself. He'd had a laugh and he had led Mallard to believe that he had the house surrounded by hidden snipers. It was even more laughable considering he'd set the whole charade up with one inexpensive little tool.

But, amusement aside, it was about time to move on to the next stage.

Checking the cameras again, Sharp saw Drake in his kitchen, fixing "dinner" for his family.

Sharp smirked as he dialed his new "assistant."

"Hello, Darkwing... Missed me?"

"What is it now, Sharp? I'm kind of in the middle of something!" Drake exclaimed testily while holding the phone to his ear slit with his shoulder. He had several pots on the stove and brownies in the oven, but nearly everything was either boiling over or burning. He gasped as a bubble popped, spattering him with boiling liquid. "Yeow! Stupid soup...!"

"Oh I know...!" Sharp chuckled as he watched the kitchen spectacle. "I need you to do some shopping for me."

"Can't it wait until I'm done here?" Drake glanced out a window. "It's not even dark yet!"

"Which is precisely why I'm calling now. I need to deliver the Canardium before my...client leaves the office. I expect you to have it ready to deliver in an hour."

"An hour?" Drake nearly dropped the phone and the spoon he was stirring with. He recovered both and turned off the stove, giving the phone his full attention. "How am I supposed to make that sort of deadline? What happened to being reasonable?"

"That was yesterday," Sharp sneered.

"But it's impossible! What do you expect me to do? Sprout wings and fly!" Drake flapped his free arm for emphasis, further amusing Sharp. "And what about the radiation poisoning? Nobody can survive more than a few seconds around that stuff!"

"I'm certain you will find all your needs taken care of," Sharp replied cooly before turning harsh. "Once. You. Get. There! Now get going!"

"Alright, alright! Keep your hat on... Sheesh."

"Oh, and Darkwing...?" Sharp sounded almost pleasant. "Do you know what happens to subordinates and their daughters who backtalk around me...?"

Drake froze, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. He gulped audibly. "I suppose an apology is in order...?" he asked nervously.

"Complete this mission, Mallard, and I may let it slide... For now!"

There! Sharp smirked again as he slammed the phone for emphasis before leaning back in his chair. Nicely done. Mallard was under the impression that he was already in trouble and in Sharp's experience, an intimidated lackey was more likely to get the job done quickly. At this rate, Sharp didn't even miss his old nemesis, Derek Blunt. No, Darkwing Duck was much more amusing and so delightfully gullible. Sharp could play cat and mouse games with this avian all day.

Drake hung up with trembling hands. Him and his big mouth! He sighed, turned off all the kitchen appliances, left a note for Gosalyn saying he'd be out, and headed to the tower.

* * *

><p>Later...<p>

A text message and a brief meeting with Horatio to pick up supplies, and Darkwing was outfitted for the job. He had on a radiation suit and helmet and he had a carrying case to secure the bar of Carnardium. Now all he needed was to break into the Science and Research Center and retrieve a bar of the most radioactive stuff in the world from the vault and get past the guards and guard dog.

The Center had deceptively basic security around it. Most St. Canardians didn't even know that a good portion of the city's energy came from nuclear power in addition to the waterfall. It was just as well. The idyllic setting and simple structuring of the building veiled a threat big enough to wipeout not only the city, but the state of Calisota and then some.

As far as Darkwing knew, the only villains who knew about the Canardium were Professor Moliarty and his moles. If FOWL, Megavolt, or Negaduck had known, then they would certainly have acted on that knowledge before Moliarty. How Phineas Sharp knew about it was a mystery to the masked mallard, but the fact remained that he had to figure out some way to sneak in there. He vaulted the brick fence easily enough, slipping past the Doberman and the drowsy guard, across an open lawn with only a few trees for cover.

_"This is it... This is the big one,"_ Darkwing thought right before he broke cover.

The vast lawn and perimeter fencing weren't much different from the property surrounding Scrooge McDuck's money bin, but that was where the similarities ceased. Darkwing was able to reach the front door easily without setting off any kind of alarms. He was almost disappointed that he hadn't found any sign of advanced security, but it made his job easier. He found an unlocked second story window and snuck in while his thoughts drifted from the radioactive bricks he was about to steal to the volatile situation he had gotten himself into...  
>Everyone and everything Darkwing cared about was in jeopardy. Even if Sharp had been bluffing about blowing up St. Canard, Darkwing knew what the man was capable of.<p>

Sharp had made it plainly obvious just how vulnerable Darkwing and his family were. Now Darkwing wasn't even sure any of them were going to make it through the week!

Gosalyn had almost gone too far a couple of weeks ago. Hammerhead Hannigan had kidnapped her, beaten up their new friend Donald Duck, and he had threatened Darkwing and Gosalyn with a gun. Worst of all, Gosalyn had found out Hammerhead was the guy responsible for her grandfather's death. Darkwing didn't blame Gosalyn for trying to kill Hammerhead, but seeing his daughter holding a knife over a downed man's chest was enough to haunt him. Although she seemed fine now, Darkwing still wasn't sure if the issue was resolved.

Would he be able to stop her the next time they got into a dire situation like that? Would she still go after Hammerhead if he was released back on the streets? And if Hammerhead did get out, what would happen if _he_ decided to come after Gosalyn? Hannigan was too proud to let the whole thing go, and Darkwing knew Sharp would have no qualms about slipping Hammerhead the address of the little girl who had long been a thorn in the goat's side!

If anything happened to his loved ones, Darkwing wasn't sure what he himself would do. If he had a chance to get revenge, would he take it...? He didn't have an answer for that.

Almost before he knew it, Darkwing had gotten out of the vault with five bricks of Canardium in a sealed container. He paused to glance back at the door. He knew it had a motion sensor on it and he was surprised to see that it had been carefully deactivated and that the security cameras in the hall had been switched to a closed circuit loop. Had he done all of that himself? Is it possible that he had gone through the entire robbery without focusing on what he was doing...? He shrugged to himself and set everything back to normal, slipping out the way he had come in. He reached the Ratcatcher without a hitch.

* * *

><p>A short drive later and Darkwing met up with Horatio in front of a fish hatchery. He handed over the case of Canardium. Horatio double checked that everything was in order before giving Darkwing the thumbs up.<p>

The weary mallard nodded and turned to leave.

"Uh, hold on, Mr. Duck..." Horatio called out. Darkwing looked at him questioningly. The tern pointed to his attire. "You forgot to take off the suit."

Darkwing glanced down at the hazard suit and sighed, removing the whole ensemble. He was glad to be rid of it but he had a sneaking suspicion that Sharp had reasons for wanting it back. He shook off his foreboding and hurried back to the tower.

* * *

><p>Just a few yards down the road, hidden behind some brush, Phineas Sharp had watched the proceedings. He smirked and stepped over to Horatio, snatching the case from his unresisting fingers.<p>

"Nicely done. That'll do for now. Take the rest of the night off," he said quickly without show.

Horatio automatically answered "Yes, Phineas— Wait, what did you say, Boss?"

"You heard me. Now shove off!" Sharp snapped impatiently as he loaded the case into his car on his own. "I have business to attend to. Good night."

With that he jumped into the driver seat and pulled away, leaving his valet standing in the middle of the street with a forlorn expression on his face. Sharp barely glanced at him in the rearview mirror. Horatio could find his own way back into town and back to the house. Right now Sharp had the key to his plan in hand. He would deliver this piece of the puzzle personally.

Later, a long beaked figure stepped out of the shadows in front of a university laboratory, holding a large briefcase.

A tall pale-colored equine in a lab coat accepted the case and shook hands with the avian before disappearing back inside. As soon as the physicist left, the shorter figure returned to his vehicle.

Sharp chuckled as he started the engine. Meeting useful people was one of the bonuses of running a criminal resort and he planned on taking full advantage of his connections. St. Canard, and its sentinel, would never be the same once Phineas Sharp got through with them.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Sharp grinned at his reflection in the rearview mirror as he pulled into the garage. As much as he preferred luxury accommodations and a chauffeur, pretending to be an average citizen had its advantages. For one thing, he didn't have to wait for Horatio to find the keys and dig out maps before driving. He could get behind the wheel himself.

Although it had been years since he'd driven anything besides a motor boat or a golf cart, the gracefully aging vulture had picked up the basics of driving solo fairly easily. And he did figure out how to turn off those blasted windshield wipers that started every time he turned on the ignition.

He smiled smugly. Everything was working out according to plan. He had Darkwing Duck on a short leash and he had the Canardium delivered. Soon, his "associate" would have a Canardium-powered generator to go along with the rest of the device Sharp, or rather Horatio, had picked up soon after Sharp arrived in St. Canard.  
>Once the generator was attached to the caging, Sharp would have the mayor of St. Canard, and the officials of every neighboring city, on their knees begging for mercy. Ha!<p>

Pleased with himself and his good fortune, Sharp tossed the car keys in the air and caught them as he walked into the house. Sighing, he settled into an armchair in the den and propped his feet up on a glass coffee table. It was so good of Mrs. Beaker to leave the house furnished. A pity the old girl was in such a hurry to leave the area. He would have liked to question her some more about the neighbors. But at least her TV had been modern enough to hook up his DVR. And his maroon pillows added just the right touch of home. Although he had no intentions of staying any longer than he needed to...

The doorbell interrupted his reverie.  
>"Who could that be...?" he muttered as he glanced at the clock. He opened the door to an odd sight: a fat duck in a garish lime green T-shirt with fruit printed all over it. With him was a tall yellow avian of uncertain origin in a blue dress with an apron and a fat kid.<p>

"Well howdy neighbor! Hoo hoo!" Herb laughed before the vulture could say anything. "Thought we'd drop by and introduce ourselves! I'm Herb Muddlefoot. This here is my lovely Binkie, and our oldest son Tank."

"Hi," the boy growled almost inaudibly. He had his arms crossed in front of him.

Binkie beamed at their new neighbor. "We brought you a housewarming gift! It's my mother's special recipe: chocolate chip and strawberry swirled spice cake." She pressed the still-warm pan into his hands.

"How nice..." Sharp commented. He doffed his top hat politely. "Thank you for your kindness, Mr. and Missus... Yeowch!" He yelped and started juggling the cake from hand to hand as he blew on his fingers. "Hot, hot, hot!"

"Oh dear, my apologies! I thought I handed you the potholder! My mistake..." Binkie smiled apologetically as she rescued the endangered gift.

"Here!" Herb said helpfully as he took the cake from Binkie and stepped around Sharp. "I'll take it in for ya, Spud. I'll just set this here baby in the kitchen. Wouldn't want something to happen to it."

"Oh Herb, dear!" Binkie called to her husband's back as she followed him inside. "Don't forget! We need to put the cake on a trivet to cool."

"Sure thing, Binkums! Um...where's the trivy-thingie?" he frowned as he looked around the kitchen counter space.

Sharp blinked at the couple. Did they really just invite themselves in?

"Outta my way, Baldy!" Tank shoved Sharp as he bulled his way in.

"What? How dare you...!" Sharp stammered. He stalked after the obnoxious child and found the rude redhead and Herb parked on his couch. Herb was holding Sharp's expensive multifunction DVR remote control in one hand and a paper towel with cake in the other. He was using one of the silk brocade pillows as a lap desk for the dessert. Sharp steamed.

"Oh, Mr. Shear?" Binkie called from the kitchen.

"What is it now?" he muttered as he went toward the voice.

"Oh... Never mind. I found it."

"Found what?" he asked as he reached the kitchen. Binkie was in the process of cutting a huge slice of cake and laying it on a paper towel.

"The trivet!" Binkie replied. "And the silverware. I did look for the plates, but they weren't in their usual spot so we improvised a bit. Oh, don't worry about the plates, Mr. Shear. We've managed." She handed him a huge slice. "Here you are! I do hope you like it."

Sharp accepted the cake with a reluctant half smile. Well, the housewife couldn't be all bad. The dessert smelled wonderful and the warmth felt good on his palm. He took a delicate nibble as Binkie related the recipe.  
>"I made it my own by adding a few special ingredients. It has just the right amount of chocolate and strawberry jam..."<p>

Sharp coughed suddenly. What was that searing sensation? Gracious! He'd had milder chili peppers than this!

"And cinnamon candy mixed with just a tad of ground Trinidad Scorpion pepper! It adds just enough kick, don't you think?" Binkie smiled expectantly.

"You could say that again..." Sharp wheezed, chucking the remainder of his morsel in the trash.

"I also took the liberty to mix up some ice cold lemonade using the lemon juice in the fridge. It should be ready in a minute." Binkie added cheerfully.

"Mm-mm-mm! Nobody can whip up a spice cake like you, Honeybunch!" Herb commented. "Hey, Percy! How do you change the channel?" he held up the remote. "I found the power button and volume and all that good stuff, but the dad-burned thing isn't labeled or nothing."

"'Percy'?" Sharp muttered questioningly. "Where did they come up with...?" Tank interrupted him.

"I'll take care of it, Pop!" Tank said as he seized the remote from Herb. His mouth was full of cake.

Sharp grimaced as the kid spat crumbs all over the place from talking with his mouth full. No wonder the house was practically a steal! Mrs. Beaker had been desperate to get rid of!  
>"Give me patience..." he breathed softly as he massaged his temples.<br>He pried his eyes away from the few things he had actually gone to the trouble to bring to this dump and returned his attention to Binkie. She was talking about bringing over some flowers from her garden and asking if he preferred daisies or roses.

"Oh, roses, certainly," he smiled, straightening his deep red shirt proudly. He frowned as a thought occurred to him. "As long as they aren't from the islands of the Salad Sea. I'm very allergic to a particular type of tree sap. Any amount of it will make me break out in hives..."

"Well, I don't think any of my flowers are exotic. Unless you count color. My delphiniums were a particularly exotic shade of blue this year. Ooh, don't you just love flowers? They're so sunny and cheerful!"

"I can see why..." he thought, noting that Mrs. Muddlefoot was much the same as her plants: loud, insufferably cheerful, persistent, and dumb.

"Hey, Binkie, look what we found on TV!" Herb exclaimed, chuckling. "It's your favorite show! 'Cooking with Raquelle Manta!' Let's see what goodies she's going to fix for us today!"

"Wonderful! I hope it's the one on that lovely tuna salad she whipped up last month!" Binkie clutched her hands as she joined her family at the couch.

Sharp gaped. They were watching TV on his DVR. They were (ugh) touching his imported silk pillows; the only touch of home he had brought along besides clothes and technical gear. And his mouth was still burning from that awful dessert! Well, they were just about to wear out their welcome.

"Just out of curiosity, Mrs. Muddlefoot. Where did you hear my name?" he prompted, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh," Binkie chuckled as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Your name is on the lease papers. Herb and I saw them on the counter while we were looking for the utensils."

As Sharp opened his mouth to object, Binkie continued speaking.  
>"'Perseus' is such a nice and...well, unusual name. What does it mean?"<p>

Sharp tugged his lapels and slipped into an easy half truth. "I believe I was named for the constellation, but it could have been the Greek son of..."

Binkie seized the word "constellation" and started talking over him. "Well isn't that nice! Our Honker just loves astronomy. He..." As she nattered off about this Honker fellow, Sharp lost what shred of patience he had left.

"For Pete's sake!" he hissed as he stepped in front of the TV.

"Hey! We were watching that..." Herb pouted.

"Well, do us both a favor and watch it in your own house! I have other things to attend to." Sharp growled.

"Like what?" Tank challenged.

Sharp glared at him. "None of your business." To the others, he said. "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I must insist! But, to make it all up to you, you can take the rest of the cake home with you." He zipped into the kitchen and returned with it, pressing it into Binkie's arms.

"But you've hardly eaten any of it!" Binkie protested.

"I've had enough, thank you. I'm on a, uh, special diet. Doesn't leave much room for sweets."

"Well in that case...!" Herb eagerly took the cake pan from Binkie and headed toward the door. "We'll let you get back to business. Nice meeting ya, Neighbor!"

"Yes, yes, charmed I'm sure. Goodbye!" Sharp ushered all three out.

Tank turned around to protest and got his beak slammed in the door. He ran home yelling while clutching his sore bill.

Sharp grinned wickedly and chuckled from behind the closed door. "Gotcha!" 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Darkwing spent most of the night out on the Ratcatcher, roaming the streets without any particular purpose. He had stopped a few muggings but, after his attempt to hand the thugs over to the police went sour, he kept to himself. He wasn't about to stick around the police station to answer their questions about the two robberies...

He released some of his pent-up energy by taking down several would-be thieves and leaving them trussed up like turkeys in front of the jewelry store, setting off the alarm himself so the police would find them. He stayed away from home until dawn before finally creeping back into the tower and crashing on the bed, exhausted.

Unfortunately his dreams offered no reprieve from the guilt and worries he was burdened with. He woke with a start and went down to the kitchenette, hoping some food and coffee would calm his nerves but the coffee just made him more restless. He paced back and forth in the small space as he tried to figure a way out of this mess. There had to be a way to catch Sharp before he could set off the explosions he'd threatened Darkwing with.

He was still pacing when Gosalyn arrived at the tower, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Seeing her dad up, she plopped at the kitchen table to wait for him to notice her. After several seconds of inactivity, she broke the silence by clearing her throat.

Once she had Darkwing's full attention, she asked about resuming her training exercises. She was just getting geared up to launch into a long-winded speech on how she was going to excel when Darkwing patted her on the head absently and walked away from her.

"Hey! What about my training?" she exclaimed.

"What training?" he asked distractedly as he read the newspaper and continued pacing the tower.

She jumped in front of him and pulled the paper out of his hands. "The training you promised me on my birthday! Don't tell me you're backing out of the promise...!"

"No, no!" Darkwing held up his hands in protest. "I'm not backing out of anything. I'm just putting that on temporary hiatus until some other... things are resolved..."

Instantly perking up at the thought of a case, Gosalyn eagerly perused the paper. She frowned disappointedly. "But there's nothing in this other than more coverage of that same old bank robbery. Guess they should have asked Darkwing Duck to test their security system for them, huh, Dad?" She asked with a smug grin.

"Hmm? Oh! Right..." he frowned and went to his lab table.

Gosalyn tagged along.  
>"Say, why don't we check out the bank ourselves? With two crime fighters on the case, we can bust the burglar who broke into the bank in no time!"<p>

"Sure, Sweetie, whatever you say..." Darkwing replied half-heartedly as he flipped through his book of gas recipes and set out some of the supplies.

Gosalyn scowled and punched him in the stomach. Darkwing doubled over in pain and gawked at his daughter. What in the...?

"You weren't paying any attention to anything I said!" she exclaimed accusingly.

"Of course —wheeze— I was listening! —Cough—" he slowly straightened and scowled. "Are you purposefully trying to get yourself grounded? Because that is the last thing you want to do to someone you were begging for training moments ago!"

"I wasn't begging, for your information, that was just asking eagerly. And all that proves is that you listened to one sentence that I said! Now what is going on and why aren't you letting anyone help you!"

Darkwing blinked at her. "Where on earth did that statement come from?"

"Quit avoiding the issue and talk to me! I'm your daughter! I'm supposed to know when something's bothering you. And Launchpad didn't become your sidekick just for the meal ticket. It's been almost three days since you've let either of us go out on patrol with you..."

"Oh, three days. How tragic." Darkwing rolled his eyes sarcastically. "Did it occur to you, perchance, that crime is at an all time low?"

"So what's the harm in letting me come along then?" Gosalyn persisted. "If there isn't any real danger, I can practice in real life settings—"

"And," he continued, spinning around to wave a finger in her face. "Did it occur to you that I might perhaps be protecting you from something? Like a father is SUPPOSED to protect his daughter?"

"Oh, you mean like the time you 'protected' me from Negaduck by throwing me in a dinosaur skull? Or the time you grounded me to 'protect' me from Taurus Bulba? Gee, that worked real well, didn't it?" Gosalyn growled sarcastically.

"So I make a mistake once in a while, so sue me! Now, for your own good, I'm asking you to drop the issue, Gos." Darkwing straightened and crossed his arms.

Gosalyn bristled. "Why can't I judge for myself? I can fight crime just as well as you can! I hit everything I aim for!"

"You couldn't handle self-control for five minutes!"

"Oh yeah, this from a total self-control expert..." Gosalyn rolled her eyes sarcastically.

"For your information, I have excellent self-control! Now go do your homework before I have to implement self-control!"

"'Homework'? I'll have you know it's still June! I still have two whole months of summer left!"

"Which you will be spending in your room for the entire length of if you don't get out of my sight this minute!" Darkwing snapped, pointing at the chairs.

Gosalyn started to retort but bit back her tongue as the effect of his harsh words sank in. She shrank back uneasily before tears formed and anger took over. "Fine! Ground me for caring about you! See if I care."

She ran to the chairs and left.

Darkwing panted for a moment, frozen in his last position with his finger pointing at empty air. After he got himself back together, he slowly realized what he just done. Slowly sinking to the floor, he rested his elbows on his knees, clutching his beak miserably.  
>"I'm sorry, Gos..." he whispered to the now-silent superstructure.<p>

* * *

><p>Darkwing was still moping an hour later when Launchpad came by the tower to check on him.<p>

"Hey, DW!" Launchpad greeted his pal cheerfully.

Darkwing spun around. "Huh! Oh! Heh heh. Launchpad. How nice to see you..."

"Well, nice to be seen, I guess." Launchpad shrugged. "Whatcha been doing, Bossman?"

Darkwing gulped. "Um...just some thinking..." He answered through his teeth.

"Hey, me too! What a coincidence!" Launchpad replied brightly.

Darkwing palmed his face irritably.

"So, I've been meaning to ask ya..." Launchpad began.

"Yes...?" Darkwing asked nervously.

"When's the last time we've been bowling?"

Relieved that the conversation wasn't heading toward a touchy subject, Darkwing mopped his brow and considered the question. "Well, I guess it was back in March or so..."

Launchpad nodded. "I knew it had been a while. So, I was thinking maybe we could go bowling this afternoon or this evening some time. If you're not too busy with, uh, patrolling and crime fighting and such, of course..." he added with a nervous chuckle. He didn't want to get yelled at.

Darkwing thought the proposition over. It would be nice to get out and do something normal for a change. Something stress-free and non-crime related. But then again, he'd be leaving Gosalyn at home with nobody to watch her. The last thing he wanted to do was leave her with that monster Sharp lurking around...  
>"Um...I think I'll pass."<p>

Launchpad slouched in disappointment. Darkwing sighed, then brightened as another thought occurred to him.  
>"But you know... Taking a break isn't such a bad idea."<p>

Launchpad straightened. "You mean you'll come?"

"Not right now, Pal. But I was thinking..." Darkwing put a hand on the pilot's shoulder. A plan was starting to formulate. "You've been working sooo hard. Why don't you take a vacation?"

Launchpad looked confused. "But I just got b—!"

Darkwing interrupted with a wave of his hand. "That was just a weekend at home. When was the last time you took a real vacation? One where you got out and did whatever you want, whenever you want, for as long as you want, with no attachments!"

"Uh, gee, I guess it was—"

"Too long ago." Darkwing started to push him toward the spinning chairs. "Now you just go pack your bags and—"

"What about you and Gos? It's not a vacation without you guys there..." Launchpad protested.

Darkwing froze. Thinking quickly, he added. "You're absolutely right! Say! Why don't you take Gos to visit those nephews of McDuck again? Then you two can hang out at the hangar with your family and enjoy the sights and—

"But DW—" Launchpad protested as Darkwing resumed shoving him.

"Gos could even go see the Junior Woodchucks at work. Say! That's it! You can go camping! I'll get the gear."

Launchpad stepped aside, leaving Darkwing leaning on empty air. He waved his arms in an attempt to catch his balance but ended up falling on his face.

"Hey, I know what's going on..." Launchpad said suspiciously as he turned around to face Darkwing. After looking around to see where he had gone, Launchpad helped the crime fighter to his feet. "You're trying to get rid of me!"

Darkwing gulped nervously, unable to think of a response.

Launchpad stared at him sternly for a moment before breaking into a grin. "If ya wanted to throw a surprise party, you could have just asked."

"Uh, yeah. A surprise party. That's what it is..." Darkwing fumbled again, rubbing the back of his neck.

Launchpad slapped him on the shoulder. "What a pal!" He started to walk away but paused as he considered something else. "Ya know...I appreciate the gesture, Buddy, but I really don't need a party..."

"You...you don't?" Darkwing gasped, still recovering from that shoulder slap.

"Nah. I'll settle for a coconut burger barbecue at the Muddlefoots any day. Or Pepe's Pizza. I heard they're having a "Sizzling Special" this week. I've been meaning to try that new 'Super-Scorcher' they've been advertising..."

As Launchpad started fantasizing about pepperoni and sausage pizza topped with slivers of jalapeno, habanero, cubanelle, poblano, tabasco, cayenne, and other varieties of peppers and spices, Darkwing's mouth started smoking.

Launchpad was just getting to the part about this new super hot Trinidad Scorpion Butch T pepper when he heard a faucet running. He turned around. "Er, DW...?" Darkwing had already fled the room. "Gee, I didn't even get to the chili fries..."

* * *

><p>Later, Drake went home, finding Launchpad at the kitchen table.<p>

Launchpad plopped the paper on the table in front of him. "DW, I think we need to talk."

"If this is about my suggestion, forget it!" Drake replied crossly. He wasn't in the mood for a lengthy discussion.

"Well, it kinda is, but it's more serious than that. Gos is really concerned about ya."

"I know! But right now, I..."

The doorbell interrupted him. Drake silently sent a 'thank you' to whoever had arranged the distraction as he pushed away from the table. His hand was on the knob when the most irritating noise in the world grated on his senses.

"Oh yoo hoo! Mr. Mallard!" Binkie called in a singsong voice.

Drake simmered. "Oh perfect..." He peeked back in the kitchen. "Launchpad, get the door. Tell her I'm not home." With that parting remark, he ducked into the broom closet.

"Uh, okay..." Launchpad obligingly greeted Binkie. "Hi, Binkie. Drake's not home at the moment. Didja need something?"

"Oh, just a teaspoon of cinnamon, if you don't mind." She replied cheerfully.

***  
>Drake, who could hear everything, face palmed himself. "You couldn't just run to the store to pick up some?" he thought sourly at his neighbor.<p>

Thankfully Binkie couldn't hear him. She was explaining why she had run out of cinnamon.  
>"I used up the rest of ours baking a cake for our new neighbor, Perseus Shear."<p>

_"'Perseus'? Who'd name their kid 'Perseus'? Ha!"_ Drake thought.

"He's a nice man. A bit grumpy, but Mr. Shear had just gotten back from work, so I suppose a little temper tantrum is excusable. He had one of those new wide screen TVs..."  
>Binkie rattled on about the visit as she followed Launchpad into the kitchen.<br>"And he has such an unusual name. Why, I don't think I've ever met a 'Perseus' before. I have met a 'Percy' and 'Phineas', but 'Perseus' sounds so interesting. I wonder what he shortens it to..."

"I dunno. It's all Greek to me," Launchpad shrugged, completely unaware of the pun he'd just made. "Here ya go! Cinnamon on the house, hehe."

"Why thank you, but I only need a teaspoon, see?" she held up the measuring spoon in her hand.

"Oh," Launchpad smiled. "Well you might need some more later. You never know. Just go ahead and take the whole bag. Drake, uh, doesn't normally let me near the oven and he rarely bakes. So you would put it to better use than we would."

"Oh, you're such a dear. Thank you." Binkie happily accepted the cinnamon. "I'll bring over some snicker doodles later when I'm done with my rolls. Have a nice day!"

"Bye!" Launchpad waved and closed the door, rubbing his tummy in anticipation. "Oh boy! Snicker doodles! Now I'm hungry all over again! Hehehe."

Drake groaned and ran his hand down his face.

Launchpad turned serious again as he opened the door for Drake. "Look, Drake, the fact is you haven't been the same since you visited the cemetery with Gosalyn. First you started avoiding everyone, then you essentially stopped crime fighting and training Gosalyn. Next you told me to take Gos to Duckburg and leave you alone here! If that isn't a call for help, I don't know what is. What's wrong, Buddy?"

"What's wrong! I'll tell you what's wrong! I've been—" Drake was cut off by his cell phone vibrating. He grimaced. "Sorry, LP. I need to take this call." Ducking into the living room, he cupped his hand around his beak and hissed into the receiver. "What?"

"Get yourself together, Duck. You're practically broadcasting to the world that you're under duress." Sharp simmered.

"Well what do you expect! I AM under duress! You've got me wrapped up tighter than a spool of dental floss! No more warnings! I can't take any more!"

"Fine. But remember: tread carefully." —Click—

Drake clenched his fists and counted to twenty, forcing himself to relax.

Launchpad peeked into the room. "You okay, DW?"

"Yes." Drake sighed. "Everything is fine."

The pilot didn't buy that for a second but he shrugged it off. "Well...if ya need to talk, you know where to find me." He headed up to his room.

Drake sank onto the couch. After a moment of fidgeting, he picked up a magazine and reached over to switch on a light. He was about to settle back but something had seemed different about that lamp. He looked again and found a listening device. He yanked it off the shade and snarled into it.  
>"I didn't tell him anything! You got that, Sharp? You leave my friends out of this! And if you harm so much as a feather on any of them, I will Hunt You Down! You hear me?"<p>

Letting his fury and nerves take over, he bashed the listening device with a hardcover book. Then he rushed off to grab a hammer, pounding the bug to pieces. Still not satisfied, he put all the pieces in a bag and jumped up and down on them.

* * *

><p>Across the street, Sharp shook his head. "Some people have no dignity," he sighed, settling back on his pillows to watch TV.<p>

"Phineas?" Horatio called from the study, removing his headphones. "That device you ordered is ready."

"Excellent," Sharp grinned wickedly.

"There's just one problem. Dr. Harper won't hand it over until he gets the other seven grand you owe him..."

"I expected as much..." Sharp tapped his fingers together thoughtfully. "Call Dr. Harper back. Tell him he will receive the rest of his payment, and a bonus as a 'thank you' for finishing ahead of schedule, at ten o'clock tomorrow morning..."

"Yes, Phineas." Horatio started to speak into his headphones again when he realized what his boss had said and peeked into the den. "I'm sorry... Could you repeat that, Boss?"

Sharp grinned. "You heard me correctly, Horatio. I am not only paying in full for a weapon I have yet to receive, but I am giving the good doctor a raise! Ahhahahaha!"

"A-are you sure, Phineas? I-I mean the last time you paid someone more than was bargained, you... Oh...!" he put a hand to his beak as he understood the implications. "Right. I'll get on it."


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Drake was slumped on the couch, panting. He'd ranted for a good twenty minutes, tearing all over the house looking for bugs and destroying them. He hadn't given any thought to what Sharp might do but he immediately had a guilty conscience when his cellphone started ringing. He reluctantly answered.

Sharp cut right to the point.  
>"It's time for your last assignment, Duck. I've e-mailed a picture and a brief description of your duties. Make sure you follow it to a 'T.'"<p>

"Okay, I got it..." Drake opened the e-mail. He mumbled as he read it, ignoring the picture in favor of the text. He gawked when he read the last line. "What? Is this some sort of sick joke? You can't seriously want me to kill this guy! That's...that's...!" he stumbled as he tried to think of a suitable term.

"Those are the terms," Sharp said coldly. "Unless you'd rather I provide some evening entertainment for you...?"

Drake heard the sinister smile in the vulture's voice. His fingers tightened around the phone. "No. I'll... I'll do it..."

"Excellent... Now, as you can see, the job is quite simple. You will track down this...—ahem— 'felon.' Notice the coordinates on the map in the attachment. He will be at that location for the next hour. You will get him alone and inject him with the vial of poison I provided. You'll find it in a package under your spare costume in your room..."

Drake flinched. He'd forgotten Sharp had access to his house.

"I trust you know what to do from there...?"

Drake reluctantly reread the e-mail. "Dump him in the bay? Sounds a little sloppy if you ask me..."

"I'm not asking for your opinion! If you don't follow through, your daughter, your sidekick, AND your 'charming' neighbors will bite the dust. Although I would be doing the world a favor by ridding it of those pests..."

"Hey hey hey! Those are MY pests you're talking about, Bub!" Drake bristled.

"Whatever... Just get the job done by midnight! And remember... NO tricks!"

"Fine! But don't ask me for anything else! The police are already asking questions about the robberies and if I don't get back to hero-stuff soon...I might as well have a 'Wanted' poster and a big bull's-eye tacked to my cape!"

"Don't worry, Darkwing... If this assignment goes without a hitch, I won't be needing your services for a long while. You can go back to your theatrics and cheap special effects to your little heart's content."

"Really?" Drake asked hopefully before clearing his throat and dropping his tone. "I mean, uh, great. That's a relief..." Drake felt like melting into the floor. Not having to watch his back and his speech constantly would be wonderful...

"That's IF you get the job done! Now get on with it!" Sharp roared.

Startled, Drake dropped the phone. Reluctantly he retrieved it from under the bed and sank down on the edge of the mattress with a sigh.

He was trapped.  
>Sharp had him looking for cameras and recorders over his shoulder every minute. He was afraid to talk to his family lest he let something slip that might get them all in trouble.<br>He had stolen from the First National Bank and he had stolen radioactive Canardium. He was a miserable excuse for a crime fighter. How could he call himself a hero now?  
>Anything he said or did wrong could get Gosalyn and Launchpad killed and he didn't have anyone he could ask for help. His house and phone line had been bugged and his supercomputer was still on the fritz.<br>He didn't dare call J. Gander. If Sharp traced that call to Hooter's office, Sharp would figure out that Darkwing Duck had ties to S.H.U.S.H. and do something horrific.  
>He couldn't call Morgana and risk her safety. Even with her magic, she was still susceptible to a sniper's bullet or a bomb.<p>

Phineas Sharp was not as physically threatening as Negaduck or Taurus Bulba, but his careful planning had successfully tied Darkwing's hands behind his back. And now Darkwing had been ordered to kill someone...

The only way he could see getting out of this was exposing his identity to the media himself and putting Gosalyn and Launchpad in witness protection. But even that idea had flaws. How was he going to get out of this? His secret identity had been compromised more than once before, but never to this extent. And he had always managed to find a way out before. Heck, there was that one incident when...

And the answer came to him in a sudden, brilliant stroke of inspiration. Grabbing his wallet, he took off for the last safe refuge he had: the hidden room off the subway tunnels.

* * *

Minutes later, Drake stepped into the abandoned subway tunnel he used for access to the bridge. He made his way to the bolt hole he had set up after Taurus Bulba came back as a cyborg. He'd wanted to make sure he had a place to access his costumes and some other basic supplies just in case the tower was compromised. He'd never have guessed Phineas Sharp would be the one to target him.

He pressed a brick that was a slightly different color from its neighbors and the brick slid back into a compartment, making a clicking sound. He then opened a hidden door, going into a small square room tightly packed with a desk, a small bookcase, a cot, and an electric stove. He'd done some remodeling to give the room air, electricity, and minimal plumbing (he could open a pipe for a drink or a quick shower but not much more else he'd risk discovery) but it was still stuffy and often smelled like mildew.

He grabbed a book off the shelf against the wall and tossed it onto his desk. He whipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. He jotted a few notes down and stuffed the shopping list in his pocket. He also took the time to write two notes, leaving one out on top of the opened book and folding the other carefully. He tucked this into the inner breast pocket of the costume he was planning on wearing later.  
>He used the maze of waterworks and subway tunnels to join a crowd of subway passengers on their way back up to street level. He took a taxi to a costume shop to pick up a few things and went to the St. Canard arboretum.<p>

When he had everything he needed, he went back to the bolt hole. After getting as much prepared as he could within an hour, he went home.

Moments after he reached his room and retrieved the vial of poison, his cell phone rang.

"Where have you been?" Sharp's voice growled in his ear.

"I was out grocery shopping. What's the big deal?"

"'Groceries'?" Sharp sounded skeptical. "Didn't you just go two days ago?"

"So my housemates have big appetites; so sue me," Drake replied sarcastically.

"Yes... I'll let it slide for now. Next time, send the oaf shopping! You've got business to attend to!"

"I know, I know! I'll move in on the guy tonight when he leaves the bar. He'll be inebriated and easy to isolate then."

"Good. Call me when it's done." —Click—

"'Call me when it's done'..." Drake mimicked sarcastically before lowering his voice to a low mumble. "If I wasn't afraid of what that monster would do, I'd show him a piece of my mind! Darkwing Duck taking orders from a villain..." He marched down the chairs and took off for the tower, the vial of poison in his hand.

* * *

><p>Meanwhile, Gosalyn was getting more worried by the second. She had started to go to her dad's room to talk to him again about her training and his odd behavior when she heard him talking to someone. She'd hurried back to her room and flipped on the radio she had used to eavesdrop on his gas recipes a while ago.<p>

Drake had failed to notice the microphone cord she had hanging in plain sight through his bedroom window. That wasn't cause for alarm since Drake could be painfully oblivious to the obvious. But, while Gosalyn had not heard Drake's quip about taking orders from a villain, she had caught enough to get really concerned.

What was Dad up to? He'd sounded more like his snarky self on the phone, but what did he mean "move in on the guy tonight"? Was he on a mission from S.H.U.S.H.?  
>It didn't sound like an ordinary mission. Nor would he talk to J. Gander like that. He would speak that way to Gryzlikoff or anybody else in authority, but not Director Hooter... —Gasp— What if the director had been kidnapped? That could explain everything!<p>

Gosalyn automatically started to head to Darkwing Tower, but she stopped short. How would she find out anything with her passcode blocked on the computer...? She needed help.

She called Honker first before running down the hall to rap on Launchpad's door.  
>"Come on, get up, Launchpad! Darkwing needs you!"<p>

Moments later Launchpad flew out, snatching Gosalyn up in his arms before she'd gotten halfway down the hall. "Say no more! I'm on it!"

The doorbell rang. Launchpad opened it to let Honker in.

"Great timing, Honk! Let's get going!" Gosalyn said as she grabbed Honker's arm and yanked him into the living room. Moments later, all three of them disappeared into the tunnel.

* * *

><p>An hour later...<p>

"Hon-kerrr...," Gosalyn moaned impatiently as she paced around the platform. "How much longer?"

"I'm going as fast as I can. I've only made it through three of your dad's firewalls," Honker replied without taking his eyes off the screen. "And those were the ones I installed for him. This one is encrypted and password-protected. Plus it's more powerful than some of the stuff I've run across on government websites."

"That's a good thing, right?" Launchpad asked, coming over to peer at the screen.

"Um, not really. It'd take a really good hacker or a virus to break through it, and I'm not sure if it's one of Darkwing's defenses or if it was placed here."

"'Placed'? You mean, somebody hacked into Dad's computer?" Gosalyn pulled Honker around to face her.  
>He blinked and adjusted his glasses uncomfortably.<br>"Possibly."

"How? This is Darkwing's secret lair! Well, okay, not so secret since the Justice Ducks know and S.H.U.S.H. knows, too, but it's not like it's in the address book or anything. Plus Dad's been acting super paranoid lately. He wouldn't just leave his super computer on for anyone to hack into."

"Well, I'm not sure how it happened, but I think I know how to find out when and what was loaded on the computer..."

"Hurry it up then, Honker! We haven't got all day!" Gosalyn went back to pacing.

"We don't?" Launchpad asked.

"No! We've got to find Dad and get some answers! Like, why doesn't he hang out with us anymore or let us go anywhere with him? And why doesn't he jump at the chance to investigate big things anymore, like that bank robbery and that break in at the research center? And why won't he let us help! What's the point of having this superhero getup if you not going to use it!"

"Well..." Launchpad started to reason. "DW said you needed more training—"

"Training is just another word for babying. He's still being overprotective, as always, all because he wants to be the big 'Hero'..." she said mockingly. "And let's face it, Launchpad, you've been sidelined just as much as I have the past couple of weeks. What gives?"

"Uh, gee, um...I'm not sure how to say this, Gos..." Launchpad looked away sheepishly, holding his hands behind his back.

"Just spit it out!" Gosalyn snapped a little too sharply. Seeing him flinch away from her, she calmed herself down a little and put a hand on his arm. "Sorry, Launchpad. You didn't deserve that..." She looked down at her shoes. "I'm just really worried that Dad's shutting all of us out his life without letting us help him...!"

"Aw..." Launchpad smiled gently and patted her head in a brotherly fashion. "Don't worry, Little Buddy. I know what you mean... I'm worried about DW, too. He hasn't been the same since..." he broke off. He wasn't about to mention the cemetery to Gosalyn. She didn't need to blame herself for DW's problems. He grinned goofily. "Gee. Guess I can't say life with DW has ever been normal..."

Gosalyn chuckled lightly. "Yeah. I'll say." Turning her attention back to Honker, she peered over his shoulder. "So, any progress yet?"

Honker sighed. "Nope. Not in the last five seconds."

"Oh! This is taking forever!" she kicked at the base of the chair unconsciously, not even noticing that she had nearly knocked Honker off of it. She grabbed Launchpad's sleeve. "Come on! We'll find out what's going on the old fashioned way!"

"I'm afraid to ask what that is...!" Launchpad grunted as he followed the determined duckling.

"So am I..." Honker commented quietly as the other two left him behind.

* * *

><p>"Do ya think it's a good idea to spy on your dad like this? DW is gonna be really steamed when he finds out..." Launchpad asked as they flew over the streets, following the Ratcatcher's signal.<p>

"So what else is new?" Gosalyn shrugged as she straightened her hat.

"I dunno... Um, QW, what are we going to do if DW leaves the Ratcatcher?"

"Simple. We'll just follow him on foot. No big deal."

"Right. No big deal... Following Darkwing on the streets when he's on a case will be a piece of cake..." Launchpad replied nervously and skeptically.

"Don't worry so much, Launchpad," Quiverwing groaned as she peered down at the streets. "All we have to do is stay in Dad's blind spots! He never notices anything above him, even when it's painfully obvious that it's a trap! And how many times has he walked right by you when you were on the sofa and not even known you were there?"

"Gee...I hadn't even thought of that. And DW has been acting kinda...distracted lately... He didn't even want to go bowling!"

"Then that settles it. We'll just watch him from the rooftops and keep our distance. That way if he does get mixed up in something he can't handle, we'll be there to help."

"Sounds like a plan." Launchpad focused on his controls for a bit before noticing that the blipping from the Ratcatcher's signal had slowed. "Hey...it looks like DW is stopping."

"Alright, Launchpad... Let's get inquisitive!" Quiverwing rubbed her hands together eagerly.

Launchpad frowned nervously, but he landed the Thunderquack a block away on top of a long, flat-roofed warehouse. They climbed down with the jet's rope ladder and crossed over to a higher building where they would have a better view of the streets and sidewalks.

The streets were practically deserted at this hour. Sports and primetime shows were on television and the bar patrons and scumbags were still being entertained. It should be easy to find a duck in a cape and a broad hat.

Launchpad nudged Quiverwing and pointed when he found Darkwing. Quiverwing zoomed in on him with the binoculars she was using. Darkwing looked tense and focused on something... She panned a little ahead of him and saw a lone figure walking away from Darkwing. The guy was tall, lanky, white haired, and wearing a brown vest over a white shirt with a derby hat and khakis. Looked like a geek to her...

"What's he doing...?" Quiverwing muttered to herself as she again looked back at Darkwing.

Launchpad responded as if she had asked him.  
>"Beats me," he said with a shrug.<p>

Quiverwing ignored him, her attention focused on the stealthy shape below...


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Darkwing crept through the alley, avoiding street lamps and security cameras by hugging the wall. His target was in sight. He double checked the file Sharp had placed on his phone.  
>Yep. That was Dr. John Henry Harper alright. He was a tall and lean palomino horse. He was also one of the top chemical engineers in his field and known for constructing tamper-proof incendiary devices. Darkwing didn't know why Sharp wanted the guy dead, but it was his job to take Harper down as quickly as possible.<p>

Harper was close enough, Darkwing could easily jump on his back. A quick jab with the toxin and Darkwing could face Sharp for the last time. Sharp had promised this would be the last test. The guy had all the money he could possibly spend. Unless he wanted to swim in it like Scrooge McDuck, Darkwing was pretty sure Sharp would be content to go back to his island resort and retire. At least...he prayed that was the case. And anyway, he was going to take a sample of Gurbstickular sap with him to that last meeting, just in case Sharp tried to up the stakes on him.

As Darkwing neared the horse, Harper suddenly spun around. The hunter and the hunted stared at each other breathlessly.  
>"Are...are you following me?" Harper asked incredulously.<p>

"Um...no, not exactly." Darkwing twiddled his fingers. "I just, uh, happen to be going the same way as you, hehe."

Harper's nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. "I think I smell a rat and it's in the shape of a duck in a clown outfit..."

"A clown? Where?" Darkwing looked around. "I don't see any..." He realized he and Harper were the only ones out here. He raised his finger to object. "Hey! Don't you know who I am? I'm Darkwing Duck!"

"You're him?" the equine peered down his long nose at him. "I always thought a vigilante crime fighter would be...taller."

"Don't mistake size for ability, Buster! I'll have you know I've taken down villains twice your size before!"

Harper snorted disbelievingly. His gaze wandered to Darkwing's hands and squinted suspiciously.  
>"What have you got there?" he pointed to the small gleaming object taped to Darkwing's fingers.<p>

Darkwing blanched and grinned nervously, tucking his hand behind his back.  
>"Uh, nothing..." He sure wished he could think of a clever lie right now.<p>

Harper backed away uneasily. "Get away from me!"

"I'm not doing anything!" Darkwing held up his hands in protest. Harper zeroed in on the vial and dug out his cell phone. Darkwing panicked and lunged forward. "No wait! Don't call the police!"  
>The hand with the vial of toxin landed on Harper's arm, pricking him through his sleeve. The horse flinched and shook him off.<p>

"What did you just give me!" Harper brayed, his eyes half crazed with fear and anger.

"Something from your former employer," Darkwing smirked self-confidently.

Harper thought this over for a second before baring his teeth and charging.  
>"Yeah, well take this to that cheapskate!"<p>

"YIPE!" Darkwing narrowly avoided a knuckle sandwich by jumping up onto the lower rung of a fire escape ladder. He swung from it, peering down at the equine and wondering if that quick jab had been enough to incapacitate the horse...

Harper looked around and finally spotted the duck overhead. Snorting in outrage, he tensed and jumped, grabbing Darkwing's legs.

Darkwing gritted his teeth and struggled to maintain his grip. Harper's weight was dragging him down. He let go with one hand and reached into his jacket... But his other hand wasn't strong enough to hold the combined weight. His fingers slipped from the rung and both horse and duck tumbled to the ground.  
>Darkwing was up in a jiffy, crouched in a defensive stance.<p>

Harper, sweating and breathing hard, rose shakily to his feet. He shook his head fiercely and lunged again.  
>Darkwing leapt aside.<br>The horse controlled his momentum, changing direction and tackling the crime fighter.

Darkwing took the full brunt of the equine's weight and momentum to his ribs as they fell. The crime fighter struggled to deliver the rest of the toxin but Harper had enough sense to seize the duck's wrist and keep his hand well away from his body.

They grappled and struggled for several minutes, both feeling the strain from their efforts. Darkwing's Tuffguard-coated costume protected him from bullets and weapons, but not from constriction. Having Harper on his chest was slowly suffocating him.

Harper was getting dizzier by the moment as the toxin took effect... He started coughing and clutching his stomach. Moaning painfully, the horse sank to his knees.

Darkwing easily rolled to his feet and dusted off his costume.

Harper retched, looking worse with every passing second. He looked at Darkwing with watering eyes and gasped, "What...was...that?"

"I wish I could tell you..." Darkwing sighed.  
>He poked Harper in the chest with a finger, knocking the suddenly frail equine over onto his back. He knelt beside him and moved his hand toward Harper's neck...and froze indecisively.<p>

The small dose was enough to make Harper sick, but it wasn't enough to knock him out. In order to pull off Sharp's orders, Darkwing had to deliver the rest of the toxin. But if he 'killed' this man, would that really help Gosalyn? It might save her from a sniper's bullet for the time being, but every law enforcement agency would be after Darkwing Duck and in the end, Gosalyn would lose everything that mattered to her... And worse still, if his next plan didn't work out, then there would be nothing Darkwing Duck or Drake Mallard could do to protect his family...

As he weighed his choices, Quiverwing herself stepped into the ring of light created by the nearby lamppost.

"Darkwing...?" she asked, using the same soft tone he had used on her back when she had Hammerhead Hannigan at her mercy. Darkwing smirked at the irony, but Gosalyn misread his expression to mean mirth. She aimed an arrow at him.  
>"Please...don't make me do this..." she croaked around the knot in her throat.<p>

He looked at her. "G...Quiverwing, watch where you point that thing! This is not what it looks like!" he gestured to Harper with his left hand, his right still raised in a fist.

"Oh? What's it supposed to look like?" Quiverwing challenged.

Darkwing felt both a swell of pride and a surge of exasperation. "I have everything under control! Really!" he opened his hand slightly, trying to show Quiverwing the vial he had taped between his fingers without being too obvious. Sharp's warning still echoed in his ears.  
>"If you don't do everything I say, you can kiss your pitiful family goodbye, starting with Gosalyn..."<p>

Making his decision, Darkwing brought his hand down on Harper's neck, releasing the rest of the toxin into the equine's bloodstream.

Harper gasped. The toxin worked quickly. Within moments, after a marked acceleration of his pulse and breathing, his vital signs slowed to the point of being imperceptible.

Just as Darkwing let out a sigh of relief, he heard a twang and felt something heavy wrap around him. He looked down and saw Quiverwing's bola pinning his arms to his side.  
>"What do you think you're doing!" he exclaimed.<p>

"Saving you from yourself Darkwing," she answered, rushing over to check on Harper. She felt for a pulse and visibly paled under her mask.  
>Turning back to Darkwing, she slammed her shoulder into him, throwing him on his back on the pavement.<p>

"What did you do!" she yelled in his face. She pointed at the motionless Harper. "How could you! Don't you know what this will mean for your future!"

Darkwing raised what he could of his hands from under the rope pleadingly.  
>"Ga...Quive'...I think you're overreacting just a tad..."<p>

"Overreacting! You just killed a guy!"

"No, I didn't! He's fine! Really!"

Launchpad came up and felt Harper's throat. "Ewww! This guy sure is sweaty!" he said as he wiped his hand off with a grimace.

"A minor consequence for going up against the mighty masked mallard! Now hurry up and untie me so I can call this in..."

"Yeah right! Like we're supposed to trust you!" Quiverwing snapped.

"Quiverwing..." Darkwing groaned.

"_Dark-wing_..." she retorted. "Gee whiz, I knew you'd become a killer psychopathic tyrant one day but I didn't expect it to be on my watch!"

"'Killer psychopathic'...! What! That's preposterous! I haven't killed anyone in my life! And what do you mean by 'tyrant'!"

"Later, Dad..." she hissed. "Right now, you're going to jail!"

As Darkwing tried to come up with an argument, he saw a dot of light on Quiverwing's neck. _Oh my gosh!_ Sharp had someone watching Darkwing personally! He fought a wave of panic. He couldn't alert Gosalyn now! That would guarantee she would get shot! He wriggled around, trying to work his hands loose from the bola.  
>"Quiverwing! I can explain! Really!"<p>

His efforts ended up with him falling over on his side. As he tried to come up with an explanation that wouldn't put his daughter and sidekick at further risk, he noticed the laser beam had shifted off its target and was now pointing harmlessly at the ground. If he was going to do anything, it had to be now. He remembered his backup plan and maneuvered his beak under his lapel. He tugged on the note but the paper was stuck under the bola.

"Quick! Gos! Grab this!" he hissed, nudging the note with the tip of his bill.  
>His eyes wandered from her to the red dot on the ground, glad to see that whoever was holding the rifle had not corrected their aim yet. Knowing a professional sniper would never lower his guard, Darkwing ventured a guess that Horatio was keeping an eye on things from a nearby rooftop. He didn't know if Horatio had a good aim or not but the thought of the mild-mannered lackey aiming at him was both nerve wracking and strangely reassuring. It meant he might have a chance to get everyone out of there safely without alerting the lackey.<p>

Darkwing turned his attention back to Quiverwing, finding her looking at him suspiciously.  
>"Hurry!" he snapped.<p>

She hesitated for just a second longer before obediently reaching for the note. She lifted the restricting coil off of Darkwing's chest just enough to retrieve the piece of paper, giving it a glance over. She raised her eyebrows, looking back at her dad just long enough to verify that this wasn't a joke.

The note said: _"DO NOT TURN AROUND! Our lives are at stake. Our identities have been compromised and we are under constant surveillance! Harper is NOT dead, just temporarily paralyzed. If I am to get away with this, you have to follow my instructions..."_

Quiverwing met her dad's eyes. She read the desperation and mounting frustration all over his face.  
>"Bye, Dad," she whispered hoarsely around a sudden lump in her throat. She turned and signaled Launchpad, racing out of the alleyway and disappearing into the night. <p>

Darkwing sighed in relief. Fidgeting some more, he finally slipped an arm out from under the bola and freed himself. Glancing around for the laser dot, he spied a short silhouette leaving a rooftop and heading in the direction of the docks. Darkwing turned his attention back to the inanimate equine and sighed again in exasperation. This was going to be interesting...

He pulled Harper by his arms toward the Ratcatcher.

"This...(grunt) would be... (pant pant) a lot easier (gasp) if you weren't... (gak) so heavy!" Darkwing slumped to the ground, panting and wiping the sweat from his brow. Once he caught his breath, he grudgingly speed dialed Sharp on his cell phone. "I did what you wanted... What do you want me to do with him?"

"Wait there. I want to see for myself," Sharp replied darkly.

Sharp's sedan pulled alongside the Ratcatcher ten minutes later and the vulture stepped out, keeping a pistol aimed steadily at Darkwing's head. He produced a stethoscope (a handy tool for safe breaking) and pressed it against the equine's chest. After listening for several seconds, he smirked cruelly and turned to his captive audience.  
>"Well, Darkwing, it appears you have more in common with your dubious double than anyone would have suspected. You've passed the test, my fellow fowl. Welcome to the criminal world."<p>

"If it's a choice between the life of a FOWL scientist and my family, what else would I choose?" Darkwing replied coldly, keeping an eye on Sharp's gun. He revved the Ratcatcher's engine. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a body to dispose of..."

"Why the hurry?" Sharp asked suspiciously.

"I don't want to miss the finale of 'High Speed Chases' tonight," Darkwing replied flatly.

"Ah. I'll have to look into that... Very well. I trust you remember the arrangements?" Sharp gestured toward the limp equine.

Darkwing gritted his teeth. "Yeah. I'm on it." He gunned the engine and raced down the street, zipping toward the bay.  
>He drove out onto a section of beach, parking the Ratcatcher below the pier. Unstrapping his helmet, he shoved the horse out of the sidecar and dragged him into a boat tied nearby for the purpose. He rowed further out into the bay and pushed Harper into the water. After glancing around, he dove in after him, disappearing in the murky depths...<p> 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

"Uh, QW, what exactly are we running away from?" Launchpad asked as he caught up to Quiverwing.

She waved the note in front of him as an answer. "We're following Darkwing's plan. For now..."

"Oh, good. For a second there, I was afraid we were running away from your dad!" Launchpad grinned goofily.

Quiverwing grimaced but kept her thoughts to herself. She still wasn't willing to admit what she'd seen in the future to anyone, but that version of her dad WAS someone she would run away from. Pushing those thoughts aside, she looked at the letter again.  
>"Launchpad? Has Dad ever mentioned anything about a hidden office besides the one at the house?"<p>

"Um, no, not that I remember. Why?"

Quiverwing read the note aloud. "'_Go under my hideout, walk through the hall, and lean on the green panel. There's a hidden office with a note explaining everything, plus a sample of the serum I used on Dr. Harper. Don't speak aloud until you get there; the house and the tower are bugged. WAIT FOR ME THERE. I'll explain things as soon as I can! TRUST ME'!_"

"Uh, when he says 'under my hideout,' does he mean the entrance from the bay or from the house?" Launchpad asked.

"Guess we'll find out soon enough." Quiverwing replied as she lifted a manhole cover. She reminded him to keep quiet as they climbed down.

They made their way to the abandoned subway via maintenance and electrical rooms connecting the water works, cable company, and subway to each other. Once they reached the bridge, they started backtracking to figure out where Darkwing had wanted them to go.  
>They were still looking for the moveable "panel" when they heard something coming from behind them. Launchpad raised a wrench he'd conveniently found beside the tracks and Quiverwing readied a net arrow. It took them a moment to identify the odd figure that appeared: it was Darkwing, dripping wet, with something bigger than he was slung across his shoulders. That horse guy!<p>

Darkwing offered his companions a tired, humorless smirk as he gladly handed Harper off to Launchpad. The equine was still unconscious but both Quiverwing and Launchpad could hear him breathing.  
>Quiverwing started to say something but Darkwing shook his head, pointing to his ear as a reminder to keep quiet. Quiverwing made a zipping motion across her beak. Darkwing smiled. He signaled for Launchpad to turn off his phone as he did so himself. Then he took the lead, showing his family the panel he had described in his note. The door slid away, revealing his refuge.<p>

Gosalyn and Launchpad were both impressed. They'd never guessed there was a secret room off the subway tunnel, although in hindsight it made sense to Gosalyn. How else could her dad hide all that great stuff he'd gotten for her birthday a couple weeks ago?

Darkwing carefully checked his and Harper's pockets, signaling for Gosalyn and Launchpad to do the same with their outfits. He was especially concerned with buttons; he made sure every button on his and Quiverwing's suits was genuine and untampered with. He wasn't sure how detailed or resourceful Sharp could be, but he wasn't taking any chances on anyone's safety.

Finally satisfied that they could speak freely, he explained the situation from start to finish as he changed into a dry costume behind a screen. He also briefly explained the bolt hole and why he hadn't mentioned it before now.

"I've collected blueprints most of my years as a crime fighter. This bolt hole was the original location for the subway's facilities before Professor Moliarty and his moles made their surface debut. The ground was too unstable for a station so the subway workers paved over this section and rerouted the tracks. After our second encounter with Bulba, I thought it was necessary to have a back up to the tower, just in case anyone else got clever or lucky enough to locate our lofty residence."

"Good to know. So what are your plans for this guy? And how'd you get so wet?" Launchpad looked at Harper.

"This 'guy' is a topnotch chemical engineer who occasionally works for FOWL. And as for the state of our clothes..." Darkwing paused to wrap a terrycloth robe around Harper's shoulders. "...we took the shortcut to the bridge..."

"'Occasionally works for FOWL'?" Gosalyn asked. "If he's any good, wouldn't they keep him locked up somewhere?"

"Who knows...?" Darkwing shrugged. "After we go over the plan, Launchpad will deliver him to S.H.U.S.H. for further questioning. Inform them that he should wake up around this time tomorrow and will be back on his feet in a day or two."

"Speaking of which, what'd you give him?" Gosalyn poked the equine's shoulder. "He still looks kind of...dead."

Darkwing grinned smugly. He produced a yellow flower and a book from his desk.

Gosalyn read the title on the page. "'Mad honey disease'?"

"Or, more precisely, 'Grayanotoxin'." Darkwing smirked, pleased with his own cleverness. "Large doses can cause a drastically slowed heart rate, breathing, muscle weakness, and other signs akin to a severe case of drunkenness or flu. I supplemented the nectar with a mild sedative to counter some of the reactions. Luckily Dr. Harper has medical information on record or else I might have miscalculated his height and weight and given him the wrong dose."

"Neat trick, DW!" Launchpad grinned appreciatively. "So, uh, how'd you find out about this stuff, anyway? Doesn't seem like the sort of thing you'd read in 'Lawn and Garden'..."

"This particular sample came from the arboretum. The Honeysuckle Azalea, indigenous to Europe and Asia, also known as Rhododendron Luteum. As for the idea...well, I got that from a Sherlock Jones movie." He shrugged.

"Keen gear! Who says movies can't be educational?" Gosalyn grinned mischievously as she looked at everything in the room. She took particular interest in a lamp with a magnifying glass and a built-in cup holder.

"And..." he added over Gosalyn's interruption. "Since my super computer was compromised, I looked it up the old fashioned way." He joined Gosalyn at the desk and nudged a huge hardcover book in front of her, bumping her hand away from the lamp. "See, Gos? Those dusty old encyclopedias came in handy after all!" He smirked.

She rolled her eyes and knelt to peek under the desk instead, looking for signs of hidden mechanisms or anything else neat. "Well, you know you could have just asked Morgana."

He was momentarily speechless, but he recovered quickly. "True, but even Morgana went to school and studied. Now, moving on. Launchpad, do you have your phone with you?"

"Sure do." Launchpad produced his cell phone from a pocket. Darkwing snatched it from his hand.

"Great." He started pressing random buttons. "Now where's the contact information on this thing...?"

"Uh, why don't you just use your phone, DW?" Launchpad inquired as he reached out to help.

Darkwing stubbornly turned his back on him, determined to figure the device out on his own. He found what he was looking for and placed the call as he briefly explained.  
>"Sharp tapped mine. I'm not about to risk him overhearing my plans..."<p>

"You have a plan?" Gosalyn asked eagerly.

"Yes. And we'll start carrying it out tomorrow. But first, there are a few arrangements I need to make..."

* * *

><p>Sharp gleefully leaned back in his chair. Thanks to Darkwing Duck, his fortune and reputation would soon be back in shape. And, once he tired of his new 'pet,' he would simply toss Darkwing to the wolves. Sharp had everything mapped out.<p>

His beeper went off. He checked his pager and called the number.

"Yes, Horatio." Sharp said harshly. "What did you see?" After a moment of listening, he slammed the phone down and tapped a few keys on his mobile tablet.

Horatio was down by the docks, overseeing the delivery of some more of Sharp's belongings. He had been told to keep an eye out for a body and to contact Sharp when he saw it. Horatio reported that he had seen Darkwing Duck dive into the bay after dumping Harper's body and neither resurfaced.

Sharp controlled his fury long enough to do some quick research. He hacked onto his Cousin Edward's account on FOWL's database and looked up the information pertaining to Dr. Harper's microchip. Every FOWL agent had one implanted in their upper arm which gave off signals on their health status and their location. Sharp checked Harper's readings. It showed the doctor's heartbeat was strong and steady.

Sharp pounded his fist on the desk.  
>"I checked his vitals myself! Ooh...! I should have thought about the microchip before I dismissed him!" he clenched his fists as he stared at a picture on his desk. He ripped several prints to pieces before he came across a photo of Darkwing Duck. Holding it up, he spoke to it. "You may have fooled me now, Darkwing Duck, but you shall pay dearly for it later...!"<p>

His eye fell on the newspaper article about Quiverwing Quack and her defeat of Negaduck. Sharp chuckled. "And I know just how to collect. Hahahahaha!"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Gosalyn got up the next morning, tense and impatient. Her dad had finally given her an assignment to carry out and she was eager to get on it. Unfortunately she had to wait until Darkwing lured Sharp out of hiding and that meant waiting for her dad to wake up.

Having an idea of the kind of stress he was under, Gosalyn let Drake sleep in. For now... Most of the plans were laid out but there was still the issue on where to find Sharp.  
>Drake had discussed things with Gosalyn and Launchpad before they left the bolt hole and went home to bed. He suspected Sharp was close by and he'd rattled off on what he knew about Sharp's personal tastes and habits, trying to deduce where the villain might be hiding. He'd also warned them about the bugs he'd found around the house. He told them he had found all of the listening devices downstairs but Gosalyn had seen a flicker of uncertainty cross his features. She'd decided to play it safe and act as normal as possible while in the house and be careful with what she said.<p>

Launchpad came down a little later, looking tired but just as anxious as she was. He greeted her and started cooking some eggs. He wasn't good with following cookbook instructions, but he could cook on a stove and over an open campfire with no trouble at all.  
>As he joined Gosalyn at the kitchen table to munch on leftover cinnamon rolls, someone knocked on the front door. They exchanged uneasy glances before Gosalyn went to see who it was.<p>

"Hey ya Honk, what's up?" she asked cheerfully, stepping aside so Honker could enter.

"Uh, not much. I wanted to see if your dad had any problems getting his computer to work after I removed the virus." He adjusted his glasses. "Is he here?"

They all heard a reverberating snore at that moment.

Gosalyn grinned. "There's the answer to your second question. I don't think Dad's been back to the tower yet."

Honker managed a weak smile before nerves took over again. "Gosalyn? Um, have any of you met the new neighbor yet?"

"No. Dad's been busy and you know how 'sociable' he is," she said sarcastically.

"I haven't met him either, but your mom came over to borrow some cinnamon and talked about the visit." Launchpad added. "Sounds like an interesting fella."

"I guess so..." Honker grew more nervous.

"What is it, Honk? Did Tank shove your face in your cereal again?" Gosalyn started rolling up her sleeves.

"No. Um, actually Tank seemed subdued this morning. When Mom mentioned Mr. Shear, he looked a little ill."

"Oh yeah! Now I remember." Launchpad piped up. "His first name is 'Perseus.' I remember thinking about a gladiator movie when I heard it."

"'Perseus Shear', huh?" Gosalyn muttered thoughtfully, tapping her chin.

Honker nervously looked back at the door. "I've got to go. Mom's taking Tank and me..." he gulped. "Clothes shopping..."

"Bummer..." Gosalyn sympathized.

"See you around, Little Buddy!" Launchpad clapped the boy's shoulder gently as he followed him to the door.  
>Honker waved and reluctantly left.<p>

When Launchpad turned back to face Gosalyn, he saw that she still had a thoughtful expression on her face.

"Uh, is something wrong?" Launchpad asked her uneasily.

"Huh? Oh, right... I'll tell you after Dad gets up..." she said.

Coincidentally, they both heard Drake moving around upstairs.

Launchpad got an extra mug out while Gosalyn went back to the table to finish her breakfast.

When Drake came down, he was greeted with coffee, eggs, and a freshly warmed roll. "What are you two up to?" he asked suspiciously.

"Save the grilling for later," Gosalyn said out loud as she wrote something on a napkin.

"What are you doing?" he peeked at the napkin.

"Just drawing a Turvoid monster attacking a space ranger from the planet Zeres..." she said casually but Drake saw the letters "S.O.S" on the napkin. He winked to show that he understood the message.

"Ah. Right. Would that be the slug monster with the toxic slime or the overgrown hairball with the drooling fangs...?"

Gosalyn got into a spirited rant about different alien species and the movies they starred in while Drake casually finished his meal and put away the dishes. He discreetly tucked the napkin into his vest and placed a hand on Gosalyn's shoulder, gently steering her toward the spinning chairs while she kept nattering on. He gave Launchpad a meaningful nod and all three of them headed for the tower.

By the time they reached the entrance to the bolt hole, Gosalyn finally ran out of words. She panted for a moment before smiling proudly.  
>"How was that for a distraction?"<p>

Darkwing smiled proudly and gave her a one-armed hug. "Great job, Kiddo. Now what did you really want to discuss?" He showed her the napkin.

"'Perseus Shear'," She said without hesitation. She filled him in on Honker's visit and some of the things she was putting together in her mind. "He bought the house right across the street from us and doesn't appear to have a family. He certainly doesn't like kids..."

"He has a wide screen TV and a temper..." Launchpad supplemented as he recalled Binkie's description of her visit. "And one of those universal remotes that does everything."

"Hmm. Very interesting..." Darkwing said thoughtfully. "Did Binkie or Honker describe what he looked like?"

"Nope." Both answered him.

Gosalyn wandered over to Darkwing's desk in the corner, spying the letter Sharp had sent Drake earlier. She squinted at the handwriting.  
>"Say, Dad, have you noticed something about these initials?"<p>

"Yeah, 'P.S.' What about them?" He asked while still squinting in thought.

"So..." Gosalyn showed him the signature. "Doesn't someone else have the same initials...?"

"Hey, yeah!" Launchpad brightened. "That's just like the new neighbor..."

"Precisely, LP..." Darkwing held his finger up. "Which, along with some other details I've been digging up on Mr. 'Shear' via my laptop here, inevitably leads me to conclude..."

"Sharp IS our new neighbor!" Darkwing and Gosalyn exclaimed simultaneously. They grinned at each other before Darkwing turned serious. "That makes finding the evidence we need easier but we'll have to move quickly. The moment Sharp suspects we're on to him, he'll be out of there in two shakes of a duck's tail."

"So what are we going to do?" Launchpad shrugged.

"I think it's time we add some cards to OUR deck... —sigh— This would be a lot easier if Honker was home to help out. But never mind that. We'll do this old school." Darkwing took a small cardboard box out of his desk drawer and handed it to Launchpad. While the sidekick looked at its contents in confusion, Darkwing gave him his orders.  
>"Launchpad, head back to the house and wait for Sharp to leave. As soon as the coast is clear, go in, find Sharp's computer, plug in the jump drive, follow the instructions I wrote, and copy all the files."<p>

"Sure thing, DW! Uh...what's a jump drive?"

Darkwing sighed. "Maybe it'd be better to wait for Honker to get back..."

"I'll do it." Gosalyn snatched the jump drive from Launchpad's hands.  
>Darkwing raised his brow suspiciously.<br>She shrugged. "Hey, I've used your computer and the computers at school and the library often enough to know what I'm doing." She wasn't absolutely certain about that but she figured it couldn't be too hard to copy a bunch of files if Dad was willing to trust Launchpad with the assignment. She paused as she thought of something else.

"Wait, what makes you think Sharp is going to leave the house?" Gosalyn asked, raising her eyebrow. "Has he given you a new assignment already?"

"Oh I have something in mind that he won't be able to resist..." Darkwing smirked as he showed Gosalyn a picture of a new exhibit going in to the spy museum the next town over. The exhibit would feature gadgets and costumes from the "James Pond" movies and books, including the car from the movie "Gold Feather." Derek Blunt's movie...

"Sharp's bound to take an interest in this. Especially the action figures at the gift shop..." he added with a wry smirk.

As if on cue, an alert popped up on Darkwing's laptop. He frowned and picked up his cell phone. He had configured his laptop to monitor his incoming calls in case Sharp called him while he had his phone off. Opening a small panel in the wall behind the desk, he crawled into a vent and climbed out a few seconds later in the operating part of the subway. Ducking behind a thick support column, he turned on his phone and checked his voice messages.

Gosalyn, following in Darkwing's steps, popped out of the vent and looked around, recognizing where they were. "Keeeen gear!" She whispered in a hushed voice.

Launchpad's head and arms emerged from the vent, grunting and panting from the effort of squeezing his broad shoulders through the narrow space. "Phew! Good thing I only ate three cinnamon buns..."

Gosalyn grabbed his hand and helped him climb out before closing the grill behind him. Darkwing ignored them as he stayed in the shadows, listening to the message. He looked confused and a little worried when he ended the call.

"Looks like I won't be needing that distraction after all... Sharp wants me to meet him at the Drake Hotel in an hour. He and his lackeys should all be there, which means the house should be unoccupied. You two go back and search for photos and files exposing our identities. Once you get those, I'll call J. Gander and have S.H.U.S.H. crack down on that villainous vulture! We still have Plan B for backup, but one way or another, this ends tonight!"

Gosalyn and Launchpad saluted and turned to leave but before Darkwing took a step, Gosalyn darted back to give him a quick hug. She took off before he could say anything. He watched her scramble back into the air vent with a mixture of gratitude and trepidation. He hoped that he had guessed right and Sharp was simply after the museum exhibit...

Glancing at his watch, he gave Gosalyn and Launchpad three minutes to get ahead of him before entering the vent himself.

He passed them on the way back to Darkwing Tower and took the Ratcatcher downtown, parking in front of the old hotel and grappling up to the roof. Not surprisingly, Sharp was already there, looking cross.

"About time you got here...I expected you fifteen minutes earlier." Sharp commented drily as he eyed his pocket watch, snugging his hat down against the wind.

"Tell that to traffic," Darkwing replied curtly. "What exactly do you have against meeting on the ground or in a restaurant like normal people...? And where's your stool pigeon?"

Sharp's beak curled slightly. "He is tending to his work, which I suggest you start doing before I change my mind!"

"Alright, I'm here! What is it?"

"A little pest control." Sharp calmly regarded his nails before clapping a hand down on his hat to prevent a gust of wind from snatching it. "It's come to my attention that there is another costumed troublemaker running amok in this town. I want this annoyance dealt with. Permanently!"

"Sure, sure. Just point me in the right direction and he'll be gone by morning..." Darkwing replied dismissively.

Sharp's beak curled in a sneer. "Yes, well, forgive me for not 'thanking' you just yet. I don't just want 'him' chased out of town. I want total elimination!"

Darkwing started to protest before remembering the grayanotoxin and nodding grimly. "Okay. I'll take care of it..."

"Oh, and Darkwing..." Sharp added in a leering voice, making sure he got the crime fighter's attention. "I want PROOF that she's dead! Understand?"

"'She'?" Darkwing asked skeptically. Inwardly he tried to come up with a list of the female heroes he knew of.

"Do I make myself clear?" Sharp demanded harshly.

Darkwing gulped again. "Gotcha, loud and clear..." He started to leave when Sharp added.

"Good. Stay here until you receive the message... You have until midnight to complete your task and bring me the evidence."

Darkwing sighed grouchily and plopped down on a ledge. He heard the door to the stairwell slam behind him and rested his beak in his hands.  
>Finally his phone beeped with the new message. He looked at it and gasped. The phone nearly fell from his suddenly powerless hand as Darkwing's jaw fell. He jumped to his feet. There had to be some mistake!<p>

* * * * His phone rang and Sharp grinned from ear slit to ear slit. He knew THAT would get that arrogant jerk's attention. Hearing him beg and fume might prove amusing... He answered.

* * * *  
>"Sharp! Tell me this is a joke! The Quiverwing Quack is just..." his voice faltered a little. "She's just a child!"<p>

"Sorry, 'Dad'!" Sharp replied mockingly. "I won't accept replacements! Goodbye..."

"Nononono! Wait! Hear me out! I'll do something else! Please! Give me another target! Anything! I'll steal a whole gallery of paintings! I'll...I'll steal the crown of Genghis Khan! Heck, I'll fly across the ocean and steal the Queen's crown! I'll even throw in a robe! Anything you want!"

"No," Sharp's voice turned icy. "Now you listen to me, duck, and listen well! My Canardium bomb is already in place! Tonight at nine it is set to go off, and nothing can reverse it!"

Darkwing gulped. "C-canardium bomb? But what about..."

"My bombs in your precious home and bridge, and all across town? Fake, fake, and fake. But this, as you already know, IS real! You provided the materials and financing yourself..." Sharp chuckled as he pulled a picture of "Darkwing" robbing a hardware store out of his breast pocket to admire. It was so simple, swapping Negaduck's colors with Darkwing's in a photo editing program. Every hero ought to have a nefarious double.

"And the snipers...?" Darkwing inquired uneasily.

"The handiwork of a cheap little laser pointer." He sneered as he imagined Darkwing's expression. "I must say, it was quite entertaining to watch your reaction, Dark Wing..."

"You mean the scene at the cemetery and the light in my house and... And earlier? Those were all just a trick?"

"But of course! You didn't honestly think I'd actually PAY men to watch you, did you? Don't flatter yourself, duck. I played you just as easily as I've played S.H.U.S.H. and all my other adversaries. Compared to Derek Blunt, you're just an overdressed clown who doesn't have enough talent to entertain at birthday parties!" He laughed cruelly.

Darkwing's face fell as each word cut him to the quick.

The crime fighter's silence spoke volumes. Sharp sneered and started to hang up when he heard Darkwing mutter something.  
>"What was that?"<p>

"I said I can't just give up!" the crime fighter's voice started rising in pitch and volume. "I can't let you destroy the city! ... I'm going to stop you, Sharp! One way or another!"

"Oh really...? Need I remind you that unless you bring me Quiverwing Quack, I am going to blow up your city. Tonight!"

"You can't!"

"Oh, but I can..." Sharp's voice turned acidic. "It's your choice, Darkwing! Your fake daughter OR your precious city!"

"'Fake' daughter! Why you—!" Darkwing started to rant when he heard the beeping tone of an ended call. "Sharp? SHARRRRP!"

Darkwing dropped the phone and sank to his knees. "No..." he whispered, shaking his head. He looked at Quiverwing Quack's face smiling back at him from the small screen. "No!" He sorted through his messages, finally tossing the phone aside and holding his arms skyward and screaming with all his might. "NOOOO!"

***** "That will keep him occupied well past dusk," Sharp sneered. Now it was time for Phase 2 of his plan.

First he'd call Cousin Al and have Aloysius arrange a teleconference for him with High Command. He'd tease High Command with little snippets of information: the unidentified bank robber, the Canardium theft, the murder of Dr. John Henry Harper... Once they learned all of these were the work of FOWL's former foe and most obnoxious enemy, they would demand to see Darkwing in person. And Sharp could tell them just where to find him, throwing in a bonus. They'd find a host of delicious technology and tools, just waiting for FOWL's grubby fingers... For a price, of course. All the tea in China was just a start.  
>With Darkwing Duck in FOWL's hands, S.H.U.S.H. was just a step away. And with S.H.U.S.H. came the list of agent locations. Sharp would not only have FOWL High Command at his beck and call, he would finally have his revenge on Derek Blunt. All thanks to a hapless hero valiantly trying to protect his family by becoming the ultimate criminal.<p><p>

Sharp chuckled and dialed.

"Hello, Aloysius..." He drawled pleasantly as soon as his cousin picked up. "How are things at High Command today? ... Oh, such a pity. ... Yes, yes, I know. The loss was crippling to your finances. And how is Edward? Same old? ... Yes, well, I haven't the stomach to ask what that wretched little duck is up to. Polishing her fangs, no doubt... I wouldn't know, but I suppose dental implants would require extra attention. ... I'm doing splendidly! Nothing like getting out for a change of scenery and wreaking measured havoc. Have you been following the news lately? ... Yes, the thefts the police haven't been able to solve..."  
>He chuckled.<br>"Let's just say, I'm leaving my mark on St. Canard. ... Oh yes, I'm in town. ... Oh, I have something much more intriguing than a mere cat burglar for hire. What if I were to offer FOWL the chance of a lifetime? ... Now, now, we mustn't get hasty. This is a one-time deal. ... I know you don't have the money right now! I'm not asking for money! ... No, I'm not asking for weapons!"  
>He clenched his fist and scowled.<br>"Will you just listen to me for a change?— ... What? How DARE you! I am withdrawing my offer! You can watch with the rest of the world on television! Good bye!"

Throwing the phone at the wall, Sharp pulled a Blunt doll out of his pocket and ripped its limbs off. Then he squeezed it until the head popped off. Still furious over his cousin's insults, he stalked over to a pile of shipping boxes, shoving various boxes aside until he found the one marked "VIP." Ripping into it, he took out handfuls of Blunt dolls and threw them in the air, catching a couple and tearing them to pieces. Finally he calmed down enough to go collect his phone. He brushed some dust off of it and placed another call.

"Horatio? Change of plans. ... No, finish with the packing. We're leaving tonight. ... Oh, alright. Just make sure my pillows and DVR are on the boat. I'm not leaving anything of value behind. ... Those can stay put. I'm activating Plan C. Make sure you're on that boat by eight. We wouldn't want my favorite lackey getting blown to bits, now, would we? ... No. Bring the files. I've put too many hours of research into them to let them burn. If that violet vigilante makes it out of this alive, I want to make sure I have something to pin on him!"

Sharp hung up and sighed. Such a shame to destroy such a carefully orchestrated scheme, but if FOWL High Command wasn't going to cooperate, there wasn't much point in him sticking around to personally oversee anything anymore. He had the money and the assets to comfortably retire, but there were more important things than money. One way or another, by tomorrow morning the whole world would know the name Phineas Sharp and he would have his revenge on Darkwing Duck.

_ 


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Gosalyn and Launchpad peeked out from their hiding places. They were using the meager landscaping on the front lawn of the Beaker house to their advantage while they watched Horatio pack a moving van.

They'd had a plan. Launchpad would ring the doorbell and extend a friendly greeting to their new "neighbor" while Gosalyn would sneak in the back door. Launchpad was supposed to keep Sharp's attention while Gosalyn investigated but before they could cross the lawn, Horatio came out with a big box. Gosalyn and Launchpad waved to him and offered to help but Horatio refused. They walked out of sight and waited for him to go back inside before dashing to their respective hiding places.

Gosalyn was up in a tree with a clear view through most of the front windows. So far there'd been no sign of Sharp, but Horatio went in and out of the house often enough it was impossible for them to sneak past him.

Horatio finally finished packing and slammed the van doors shut, whistling as he locked them up and went back to the house.

Gosalyn and Launchpad exchanged looks and hurried home, hopping into the station wagon. They followed the dark brown van to the docks, parking in front of a restaurant to avoid suspicion and resuming their pursuit on foot. They found Horatio transferring boxes to a boat and exchanged looks again.

Gosalyn and Launchpad positioned themselves and waited for Horatio to climb back inside. As he walked down the ramp with another box, Gosalyn called out from inside the van.

"Oh yoo-hoo, Mr. Bad Guy...!"

"What the—?" was all Horatio got to say before Launchpad slammed one of the van doors in his face. Gosalyn simultaneously pounced him from behind. Within seconds, he was handcuffed to the boat's railing, seeing stars as his vision swam dizzily.

"Alright! Teamwork!" Gosalyn grinned, giving Launchpad a high five.

"Yeah," he grinned before jabbing a thumb toward Horatio. "So now what do we do with this guy?"

"I don't know. Guess we'll leave him for the cops and see what some of this stuff is..." She went over to a random box and started tossing stuff everywhere.

Launchpad grimaced as a carelessly tossed file folder smacked him in the face. "Uh, Gos, it might not be such a great idea to make a mess of a crime scene before the police get here..."

She looked at him. "Eh heh heh. Right." Turning back to the box she picked up some of the scattered papers, pausing when an image caught her eye. "Hey... Look at this!"

Launchpad leaned over to look at the photo. It was a picture of Quiverwing Quack posing in front of the dinosaur skull. "Hey! Nice snapshot! You ought to add that to your album..."

"Launchpad..." Gosalyn rolled her eyes irritably. "This is one of Sharp's pictures. And look at this..." she picked another one off the floor.

"Hehe. Caught me on my good side..." Launchpad grinned appreciatively as he admired his mugshot. He spied another photo of him on the floor and picked it up. He blanched. This one showed him with Scrooge McDuck's nephews right after a Junior Woodchuck camping trip. He gulped worriedly. "Gee, uh, this Sharp fellow sure is thorough..."

"Yeah..." Gosalyn frowned determinedly as she collected an armful of papers. Reading through some of them, she saw copies of newspaper articles and police reports plus more photos.

She put everything in a stack and went back to the box to look at an undisturbed file. It was labeled with her birth name and two dates, indicating the contents were set in that period of time. Gosalyn hesitantly lifted the cover and saw a copy of her adoption papers right on top and a death certificate for her grandfather. She slammed the folder closed and dumped the stack of papers on top of it.

After the duo had done a pretty thorough search on the boat and in the car, they decided they would leave some of the newspaper articles and photos of Darkwing, Launchpad, and Quiverwing for the police to find. They would also leave the physical evidence of the crimes Sharp had been involved in, like the radiation suit and the money bag from the bank. They had also found one of Darkwing's costumes in Horatio's possession,and Launchpad put it on the lackey before he came around from the head blow Gosalyn had given him.

The stuff pertaining to their personal lives was too sensitive to trust with anyone, even S.H.U.S.H., so they packed up everything into boxes to take back to Darkwing. He could decide what to do with the information.

Before they left, Launchpad called the police and informed them that Darkwing Duck had caught a perpetrator posing as him and had left him on the villain's boat. He gave an excuse for why Darkwing couldn't stick around and hung up before the chief could ask too many questions.

Finally they picked up the boxes and headed off. They covered a couple of blocks before Gosalyn's arms started to shake.

"This is ridiculous! We can't walk half way across town carrying all this!" she threw down the box in a spate of temper.

"I'll carry it for ya," Launchpad shuffled his armload around to make room for it.

"No. I've got it." She grouchily picked it up again, muttering about taxis being hard to find. Then a thought occurred to her. "Hey Launchpad? Do you have the thingy that summons the Ratcatcher with you?"

"Yeah!" he brightened and pulled out the transmitter.

Within minutes they were onboard the famous motorcycle and en route to the bolt hole.

They left the Ratcatcher in the tunnel and carried the boxes to the concealed door, finding Darkwing already there. He was, of all things, reading in bed. That immediately aroused Gosalyn's suspicion.

"Hey, DW. We got the bad guy. Where do you want these?" Launchpad nodded to the boxes.

"Oh, anywhere by the desk is fine..." Darkwing answered distractedly.

Gosalyn strode right over and dropped her box on the bed just inches away from his foot. He jumped and sat up.  
>"Gosalyn!"<p>

"Alright, what're you hiding this time?" she demanded.

"I'm not 'hiding'! I was in the middle of reading something...er, important!"

Gosalyn leaned over to snatch the forgotten book off the blanket. "Yeah right. Since when do you read westerns?"

"Oh boy! Is it the one where the city guy-turned-cowboy befriends the school marm and tangles with cattle rustlers?" Launchpad asked, craning his neck to peek at the book jacket.

Darkwing and Gosalyn both rolled their eyes before Gosalyn started grilling her dad again.

"So...? What's so important?"

"Huh?" He still had that odd, distracted look on his face.

"The case! Duh! What's the latest development? Did that Sharp guy ask you to do something else?"

Darkwing's eyes widened.

Launchpad looked up. "Gee, DW, you look like you've seen a ghost!"

Darkwing visibly shook as he struggled to keep from blurting everything out. He ground his teeth, yanked on his hat, and finally let it all spill out. Gosalyn and Launchpad blinked.

"Sharp wants you to kill ME!" she exclaimed.

"No, he wants to kill Quiverwing..." Darkwing replied as he got up to pace back and forth in the small space left between the boxes, the bed, and the desk.

"Keen gear! My first death warrant! Just like in the movies!" Gosalyn rubbed her hands together.

Darkwing paused his pacing to seize her arm and lift her up to his eye level. "Let me make this clear to you: this is NOT a movie! This is real life, with real danger and real criminals out for blood!"

Gosalyn shrugged. "Big deal. We'll give him what he wants. Just give me a dose of that 'mad honey' whatever and presto! Instant evidence!"

"No, it's too dangerous! Sharp might just stick a knife in your chest or blow you to smithereens with a laser blaster just to make sure you're really dead! I won't risk your life!"

"Then how are you going to trick him, DW?" Launchpad asked anxiously.

Darkwing shook his head. "I don't know, but I have to think of something! Quick!"

Gosalyn thought this over before perking up. "Maybe Morgana could make me appear dead or turn me into a zombie slave with no pulse! That'd be really cool! Or maybe she could..."

"Ah tut tut tut tut! We are not getting Morgana involved!" Darkwing shook a finger in her face.

"But Dad!"

"No 'buts'! Now then..." he resumed his pacing. "The end plan will still work if things turn out the way I expect them to... If Sharp intends to blow my cover, we'll be ready for him. There's still the matter of security, however... Are you sure this is everything?" Darkwing gestured to the boxes.

"Everything that guy had on us..." Gosalyn replied.

"Yeah. We even searched the moving van and the car back at the house... Phew! I've seen a lot of cars in my day, but that Crown Vic was so clean, it made my beak burn!" Launchpad sniffed and wiped his bill.

"A strong cleaning odor, eh?" Darkwing rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Obviously this was a means of destroying any trace evidence..."

"Or maybe that Sharp guy has some things in common with Ammonia Pine..." Gosalyn shrugged.

"Whatever," Darkwing waved her off. "Maybe there's something else he's trying to cover..." he paced for a moment before freezing in his tracks. "Like the smell of Canardium!"

"'Smell'?" Gosalyn asked skeptically.

Darkwing shrugged. "Well...it smells a little like acid-burnt chalk. Not that I would know what that smells like, heh heh." he chuckled sheepishly.

"'Canardium'? Isn't that the radioactive stuff from that case with Professor Moliarty?" Launchpad asked.

"Yes, but that's beside the point! You two, go to the Beaker house and see if you can turn up anything else that Horatio missed, like a digital camera or computer, and delete anything relating to our personal lives..." he glanced at Gosalyn and grimaced. "On second thought, Launchpad, you go through the pictures. Get Honker to help you if you need it."

"And what will you be doing?" Gosalyn demanded.

"I will be staging your demise..."

"WHAT?" Launchpad started.

"'Staging'! As in pretending! Pay attention!" Darkwing snapped before turning back to Gosalyn. "Now then, I'm going to need your spare costume..."

* * *

><p>Sharp waited on a bench near the landmark towers in central St. Canard, filing his finger nails nonchalantly. The Canardium bomb was set to go off in a little over an hour. Plenty of time for him to get away… after one last bit of business. He probably shouldn't have bothered waiting for Darkwing to meet him. There was no way the crime fighter would off his own daughter. Most likely Darkwing was setting some sort of trap or else he had some kind of trick up his sleeve.<p>

Sharp wasn't concerned, though. He felt he knew everything he needed to know about his enemy and he couldn't resist going head to head with him again. He looked forward to seeing what sort of ruse Darkwing had concocted for this assignment. He had to admit, that last one had been quite clever: switching toxins to make Harper appear dead and following through with all the orders. If Sharp hadn't been so thorough, and FOWL wasn't so paranoid about its most valuable employees, he wouldn't have discovered the deception until news reached him that Harper was in prison.

Glancing at his pocket watch, Sharp counted down the minutes he had left before he needed to leave. Horatio had a jet boat with the last of his supplies waiting at the docks. Sharp would board and wait until they were a good distance down the river before setting off the bomb.

He had three ways to set it off, actually. One was a timer he had set to his cell phone. If he didn't call it, the bomb would go off at seven this evening like any other bomb. Likewise, his cell phone served as a remote detonator. If something happened to the timer, or if Sharp wanted to delay or set it off early, he could press the redial button on his phone to enter the code and set it off from afar. The last fail-safe Dr. Harper had installed was a particularly ingenious bit of design. Sharp was certain he would be too far away to use it, but if something went wrong, the option was open to him.

It was amazing, really. All this technology and work and materials, just to go up in smoke with the push of a. One little trigger and KABOOM! Goodbye, downtown St. Canard! Sharp had even researched the blast radius to make certain S.H.U.S.H. Central would be caught in the shock wave. He'd destroy everything he hated at once and nobody could stop him!

He chuckled deviously and relaxed. He'd contact Horatio in a few minutes to have him start up the jet boat and then they'd meet with the luxury yacht out at sea and then...

His reverie was cut off by a familiar sound.

Darkwing Duck drove up, looking appropriately distressed and a tad piqued. Sharp hid a smirk and waited for the caped duck to approach him before speaking calmly.  
>"Do you have the proof?"<p>

Darkwing threw something at his feet. "Does That answer your question?"

The vulture lifted his foot. A piece of forest green cloth dangled from his shoe. He plucked it off and spread it out, revealing the eye holes of a mask. "Is this all of it?" He asked irritably.

"What'd you expect?" Darkwing threw his arms up in the air. "I can't tote a body around in plain sight!"

"I asked for proof that she's dead, NOT proof that you've raided her laundry basket..." Sharp snapped, wringing the mask and tossing it aside.

Darkwing paled, making the vulture grin wickedly. Sharp fully expected Darkwing to fumble around with excuses as to why he couldn't provide proof. He was surprised when the mallard went back to his bike and withdrew a bag from the sidecar. It looked heavy and bulky and there was a dark stain at the bottom.

Could it be possible...? Sharp's jaw dropped as the weary-looking crime fighter set the bag at his feet. Sharp carefully toed the bag, half expecting Quiverwing Quack to jump out at him with an arrow pointed in his face.

Darkwing stepped back. "I did everything you wanted! Now disarm the bombs and leave my city!"

Sharp narrowed his eyes. The man was claiming to have killed his own daughter and now he was on the offensive? Either he was more of a deranged psychopath than Sharp had suspected, or this was another trick.

There were multiple ways of solving this particular dilemma but Sharp chose the most dramatic. Pulling a small laser gun out of his pocket, he blasted the bag at his feet, slicing through the burlap and its contents.

Darkwing jumped back in surprise. Judging from the fact that he didn't yelp in protest or try to protect the object inside, Sharp knew it wasn't a live girl.

Lurching to his feet, Sharp toed the bag again. Thick red liquid oozed out of its shredded remains. He started to look inside when Darkwing suddenly jumped on him and clutched his lapels.

"Stop! Leave her alone! She's been through enough already!"

Disgusted, Sharp pushed him off and pulled the fabric aside. A ghastly odor filled his nostrils, making him recoil before he got a good look. Whatever was in there, it was rancid. Pinching his nostrils, Sharp retrieved the mask and used it to reveal the object. He saw more green cloth, and a pair of booties...and what was that odd lump? Even in its disreputable state, it didn't look like a body.

Darkwing again tried to keep Sharp from looking too closely by shoving him, but Sharp sidestepped and bent down. What the...? A potato! Tipping the shredded bag upside down, he spilled all of its contents on the sidewalk. It was Quiverwing's clothes alright, with some kind of red liquid staining it, but the rest of it a sack of rotting potatoes! And the red stain was hot sauce!

Indignant, Sharp turned to aim his gun at Darkwing in time to see the crime fighter pull the trigger on his gas gun. Sharp covered his overly long beak with a handkerchief and fled, firing randomly behind him. He didn't stop until his gun jammed. Throwing it over his shoulder, he jumped into his car and sped off.

Glancing in his rearview mirror, Sharp chuckled. Once again, he'd evaded the hero's clutches. In less than ten minutes, he'd be on the boat and en route back to his lovely island and resort in the Salad Sea and...

Wait. What was that flash of color up ahead? Sharp leaned forward in his seat. How did that costumed buffoon get ahead of him?

"No! Not now!"

The Ratcatcher zipped around a street corner two blocks away and spun crazily to a stop in a parallel parking spot. Darkwing leapt into the middle of the street, aiming his grappling hook at Sharp's sedan.

Sharp grinned and floored the gas pedal, his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth. He'd make street pizza out of that clown...

Darkwing pulled the trigger, sending the hook hurtling toward the windshield. Sharp swerved off the road, spinning to a stop by the curb and running into a trash can.

Sharp climbed out dizzily and surveyed the vehicle. Amazingly, the bumper didn't appear to have anything more than a few dents. He was just wondering if it was possible to start it back up and drive off when Darkwing poked him in the back with his gas gun.

"Hold it right there, buzzard breath!"

Instead of appearing upset, the vulture smirked. "You're too late, duck! In fifteen minutes, downtown St. Canard will be leveled and there is nothing you can do about it!"

That was a lie. They still had half an hour on the timer, but Sharp could easily remedy that. He could feel his cell phone in his pocket.

Darkwing started, looking back over his shoulder nervously. Sharp started edging toward another car he saw parked nearby.

Darkwing saw him and flipped through the air, cutting off his escape.

"Not so fast there, Beaky... " Darkwing aimed his gasgun. "I've got a bone to pick with you!"

"'Beaky'? Coming from you that hardly qualifies as an insult..." Sharp sniffed haughtily.

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you should keep your oversized beak and ego out of other people's business!" The vulture pulled the mallard's hat down over his eyes and snatched up his gasgun during that moment of confusion.

Darkwing pried his hat off and found himself staring into the barrel of his own gun. He held his hands up in surrender.

Sharp laughed. "I'd love to exchange some cockamamie banter, but I've got a boat to catch! Nighty night, Darkwing..."

He pulled the trigger, expecting to fire a potent sleep gas or tear gas at the crime fighter. He didn't expect a heavy plunger to shoot out of it.

Darkwing ducked the unusual projectile while the velocity carried the surprised Sharp straight over Darkwing's head, slamming him into his own getaway car's driver-side door. The dazed vulture peeled himself off the paint and stared at the plunger that was now thoroughly stuck to his window.

"What in hog's name was that?" He glanced back at Darkwing, finding the crime fighter in a martial arts stance a few feet away.

Darkwing smirked. "Exactly what it looks like. A suction cup for clinging to getaway vehicles... I have you now, Villain! Give up or face the flying fists of fury of the feathered phantom!"

"Not on my watch, you overgrown beaked bumbler!" Sharp stood and drew his laser gun out of his pocket.

Darkwing flipped and cartwheeled out of harm's way, leaping to the other side of Sharp's car.

In his fury, Sharp followed Darkwing's flight, accidentally firing at his vehicle. When the engine started spewing smoke and various liquids from laser-burnt holes, Sharp gasped. He'd just lost his means of transportation!

"No! This can't be the end!"

Looking around wildly, he spotted another car parked down the street. He ran toward it, only to get knocked back by a powerful web kick to his back. He stumbled back and doubled over.

Darkwing stopped a few inches away from him. "That'll teach you. Nobody messes with the mighty masked mallard and gets away with it!"

Sharp coughed before leering up at the canard with a vicious smirk. "Oh really?"

He picked up his fallen hat and took something out of it, tossing it at Darkwing.

Darkwing caught it and stared at it dumbly for a moment. A flash of light and a small cloud encompassed him a second latter. Darkwing blinked and coughed.

"Ooh, a flash bomb. How original." His voice dripped with sarcasm. "I don't suppose you keep a white rabbit in there too, do ya, Mr. Madhatter?"

Sharp didn't hear him. He was too busy staring at the object a few yards away from them. The fight had brought them right back to the bomb!

Darkwing realized Sharp had moved a few feet away and flipped through the air after him, landing another kick in his side.

Sharp fell to the sidewalk, coughing and clutching his ribs.

Darkwing pushed past the villain to look at the bomb. He gasped. He could see a faint green glow coming from behind the thick glass window housing the stolen Canardium bricks.

The worried crime fighter looked for wires to cut or buttons to push or even lug nuts that would allow him to remove the incinerator but this design was unlike anything he'd ever seen before. Sweating profusely, he backed away, not even daring to breathe on the gleaming, basketball sized container.

Then his attention fell on Sharp. All his fear melted away as he recalled the horrible things Sharp had threatened or done to him and other people. Steaming mad, Darkwing stormed up to him and grabbed him by the collar.

"Tell me how to disarm that bomb, you vile, vexing, villainous vulture!"

"No."

Darkwing stared back at him for a second before realization struck. "What? 'No'? Why that's ridiculous! If you don't disarm it, you'll be blown to smithereens with the rest of us!"

"If that's how it ends, so be it..." Sharp pushed himself to his feet and brushed the dust off of his tailored jacket.

"But why? You don't strike me as the suicidal type!"

"Normally I wouldn't dream of it, but in this case..." he leaned closer and growled. "I'm willing to risk it!"

Pulling a concealed derringer out of his back pocket, he pistol-whipped the unsuspecting mallard across the head, effectively stunning him. Picking him up by the throat, the vulture rested the barrel on Darkwing's forehead.

Darkwing blinked dizzily before understanding his predicament. He started wriggling and pushing his hands and feet against Sharp, seeking leverage to pull out of his grip. The old buzzard was surprisingly strong.

"I've had enough of your shenanigans, Mallard! While normally I'd arrange for an excruciatingly painful and clever way for you to die, I'll settle for the old fashioned approach. Goodbye, Darkwing Duck..."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16**

As the masked mallard hung in a dangerous predicament, not too far away, a plan was unfolding...

"Sharp's got the drop on DW! What do we do?" Launchpad exclaimed as he steered the Thunderquack toward the scene.

"Just get us close enough, Launchpad! I'll handle this!" Gosalyn took off her seat belt and moved toward the hatch, fitting an arrow to her bow.

* * *

><p>Back at street level...<p>

"Don't you know a hero never dies before his time?" Darkwing exclaimed defiantly without ceasing to struggle.

"I think it's time you got a new watch, 'Hero'!" Sharp growled. He took something black and rectangular out of his pocket. Holding his thumb over a button, he held it just on the edge of Darkwing's field of vision. "This is a fight you can't win! Even if you do somehow manage to slip out of my grasp, I'll still destroy you and everything you live for!"

"Oh yeah? Well I haven't 'sneezed' my life away just yet, Toy man!" Darkwing pulled something out of his pocket and blew it off his palm.

Sharp was about to remark on the toy reference when his eyes started watering. His beak crinkled in a grimace.

"-ACHOO- Uhh! What -ACHOO- was -ACHOO- in that?"

He lost his grip on Darkwing as he started scratching his neck and rubbing his eyes. In his desperation, he forgot about the gun and the black box. Both slipped from his grasp.

Darkwing dove across the sidewalk with his hands outstretched. The black box plopped into his palms.

"Phew... That was close!" Darkwing sighed and mopped his brow in relief. He then got a good look at it. "Hey...! This is just a garage door opener! Where's the real detonator?"

"Right here," Sharp yelled, reaching for his pants pocket while still scratching and sneezing.  
>Suddenly something wound around his torso like a snake, pinning his arms to his sides. He glared over his shoulder and saw Gosalyn dangling from a rope ladder a few feet away, smiling smugly at him with her bow in hand. Her bola arrow had come in handy once again... She unwrapped her legs from the ladder and flipped gracefully to the ground, readying a second arrow while Launchpad moved on to find a place to land.<p>

Sharp growled. "It's not over -achoo- yet, Darkwing! I WILL -ACHOO- have the last laugh! GOTCHA!"

BEEP!

Darkwing and Gosalyn's jaws dropped.

"Was that what I think it was?" Gosalyn asked hesitantly.

Darkwing flew over to the bomb, and saw a red timer counting down fast. "Why can't these things come equipped with a simple 'Off' switch?"

"Give it up, Duck!" Sharp sneered. "Dr. Harper is the best explosives' designer FOWL could find! He is renowned for making his fail-safes particularly complex! We'll all be blown to bits before YOU figure it out!"

Darkwing got up in Sharp's face. "You're not fooling anyone, Sharp! I'm not letting you out of my sight until you shut that thing off!"

"What makes you think I have any intention of leaving...?" he asked in a low menacing tone.

Darkwing gaped. "What? Are you seriously trying to tell me YOU don't have a backup plan?"

"I'd rather go up in smoke as a ruthless criminal mind than rot in prison!"

"But what about your complicated escape plans like in the movies—?"

Sharp leaned into Darkwing's face. "When are you going to get this through your head? This is NOT a movie!"

"Darkwing...!" Gosalyn called nervously. She was standing next to the bomb. He gasped and rushed over to her.

"Gosalyn! Get away from there!" Grabbing her shoulders and spinning her away from the bomb, he looked her firmly in the eye. "Get Launchpad and go down to the bolt hole! It's your only chance!"

"No way, Dad, I'm staying with you!" she pointed at the sidewalk in emphasis.

"There is no time to be a hero! You get out of here this instant, young lady!"

"Uh uh! Family sticks together!"

"How lovely..." Sharp sneered. "Father and daughter joined for eternity! Oh, forgive me..." he said unapologetically. "I mean, 'false' daughter... Let's see them make a movie out of that!"

Gosalyn glared and started rolling up her sleeves.

"Oh," Sharp grinned cruelly. "Did I insult the little dearie? Perhaps you'd like a glass of milk to go with that pout?" He chuckled, daring Gosalyn to come at him.

"Let me at him!" Gosalyn flew at his face. Darkwing snatched her by the back of her shirt.

"While normally I wouldn't object to making him eat his words, we need him conscious! If nothing else, he'll at least be amongst the first to get blown up..." Darkwing said smugly, trying to wheedle Sharp into giving up the secret to disarming the bomb.

Sharp just glowered at him.

Darkwing waited three excruciating seconds before he flew over to Sharp and latched onto his lapels. "Come on, already! You've gotta tell me! How do we disarm this thing?"

"I've already told you, I WON'T do it!" Sharp spat venomously.

Darkwing started to retort, but he was distracted by the sound of sirens.

Launchpad hurried over to them.

"I got here as fast as I could...! The police are on their way, and they've got the bomb squad with them." he panted.

"Good going, Launchpad!" Gosalyn smiled at him.

"You're too late!" Sharp declared loudly. "In a couple of minutes, the bomb will go off and all the towers will collapse! The cloud dispersed by the Canardium will rain down and everything that breathes within a mile of this site will die!"

"Boy, that sounds serious, DW!" Launchpad looked at Darkwing nervously.

"It IS serious!" Darkwing threw his arms up in the air. "I want both of you to get out of here! Now!"

"Not without you!" Gosalyn retorted.

"Guess this is a bad time to bring up our insurance..." Launchpad commented while biting his nails anxiously.

"WHAT?" Darkwing exclaimed.

Gosalyn tugged on Darkwing's arm. "Come on, Darkwing! We have to go!"

"But there's got to be a..." he paused as the lingering powdered gurbstickular sap started to tickle his beak. "Ah...ah...ACHOO!"

A green light flashed on the display. Darkwing froze, wondering if he had accidentally sped up the timer. When nothing changed, he moved a little closer.

"Wait a second here! The bomb can be deactivated by a sound starting with an..." his beak started crinkling again. "ACHOO!" Again the green light lit. "ACHONG! AKROID! ACTION! AH...—ACHOO! sniff—..."

"DARK-WING...!" Gosalyn growled impatiently, tugging on his cape. When he didn't budge, she hoisted him up onto her shoulders and scrambled as fast as she could.

Darkwing was still deep in thought. "ANACONDA! No, it's got to be something related to Sharp... Something he says often, perhaps? But 'Gotcha' is spelt with...hey! I've got it! AHCTOG!"

BEEP!

Everyone flinched and braced themselves for the explosion. Gosalyn threw her dad behind a barrier and dove over it herself. After a few moments, she peeked around. Nothing had happened. Even Sharp looked surprised.

Darkwing went back to the bomb to peer at it curiously. "By Jove, it worked!" He smiled incredulously.

"What did?" Gosalyn asked.

Launchpad caught up to them. "Boy that was a close one! Say, DW, what does 'acktog' mean, anyway?"

"Nothing," Darkwing shrugged. "It was 'Gotcha' backwards."

"Backwards? Where did you get that crazy idea?" Gosalyn asked skeptically.

"Remember Duane and the vampire potato incident...?" he smirked.

"Oh," Gosalyn chuckled. "Riiight...Bushroot's veggie bridezilla."

"Way to go, Darkwing!" Launchpad grinned.

They heard another loud sneeze before Sharp shouted. "Curse you, Darkwing Duck! I don't know what you did, but I promise you, one day I will...—ah...ahh...ACHOO!—"

"Couldn't have said it better myself," Darkwing smirked.

At that opportune moment, the police and bomb squad pulled up and took over, setting out protective barriers and ordering the few passersby to stand back.

A couple of police officers approached Darkwing while the rest looked at Sharp questioningly. Then they recognized Launchpad McQuack. Knowing he was an honest fellow, they questioned him and he told them Sharp was the one who had planted the bomb and Darkwing had disarmed it. They looked at the masked mallard disbelievingly as Darkwing essentially said the same thing to his questioners, visibly puffed up with pride as he added that Sharp was responsible for the robberies and had rigged the Hannigan trial. Launchpad finished the report by telling the police where they could find Sharp's henchman, conveniently all tied up, and evidence of Sharp's plotting.

Meanwhile, a couple of officers herded Sharp toward the squad cars. He balked and yelled.  
>"It's not over yet! You may have the winning hand this time, but I still have the deck! When I'm finished playing my cards, you'll be nothing but a washed-up has-been!"<p>

The reporters and journalists were having a field day catching the iconic villain on camera. They bombarded him with questions about the movie "Gold Feather" and his part in inspiring Derek Blunt's books. Sharp gritted his teeth as he tried to ignore their questions. Finally he raised his voice above theirs to throw one last taunt at Darkwing.

"You can kiss your pitiful career goodbye, Darkwing! I know all your secrets, and I assure you, once I meet my fellow inmates, your identity will become public knowledge." Sharp snarled.

Just as he'd expected, the reporters took the bait, instantly changing their questions.

"Mr. Sharp, Mr. Sharp!" They clamored. "Does this mean you know the identity of Darkwing Duck?"

Sharp smirked proudly at the cameras and microphones that were promptly shoved in his face. "Certainly! His name is..." He paused for dramatic effect while everyone listened raptly. "Drake Mallard!"

"Did somebody call me?" a voice rang out.


	17. Chapter 17

_A.N. Who is this mysterious mallard? Any guesses yet? Here's a brief chapter to give you more clues._

**Chapter 17**

A duck in a pink shirt and green sweater vest pushed past the media and ducked under the yellow crime tape.

"Sir!" One of the officers protested. "I'll have to ask you to step back..."

"Sir! Are you saying your name is Drake Mallard?" a female duck from "What in the World" extended a microphone toward him.

"Sure," the duck said, sounding confused. "That's what it says on my driver's license..."

"Dad!" Gosalyn cried out, running over to 'Drake' for a hug.

"Oh thank heavens! My little girl is safe! I was so worried about you!" Drake exclaimed as he firmly latched onto to Gosalyn, scooping her up to plant a couple kisses on her head for the clicking cameras.

"Dad..." Gosalyn squirmed in his grasp, pushing away.

"But..." Sharp stammered, gawking at the spectacle. He pointed at Darkwing. "He's the real 'Drake Mallard'! That man is an imposter!"

"What! How dare you!" 'Drake' protested, glaring at Sharp and jabbing his thumb into his own chest. "I'm Drake Mallard!"

"Sir," a police officer approached the indignant duck. "May I see some identification?"

"Here ya go," Drake replied, fiddling with his wallet. The ID was clearly visible but it was rather firmly stuck to the clear plastic pocket holding it. Drake finally extracted it and handed it over.

The officer studied it carefully, comparing the photo to the duck in front of him. "Hmm. How long have you had this picture, Sir?"

"Oh, it's a couple of years old. I started using 'Regain' for...ahem, some thin spots. Did wonders for my hair!" Drake proudly stroked his crest of feathers.

Off on the side, Darkwing gritted his teeth in annoyance. Fortunately he didn't make a sound.

The officer took one last look at the card before handing it back to the expectant duck. "Sorry for the inconvenience, Mr. Mallard. I would like to ask you a few questions pertaining to your daughter before you leave..."

"Shoot!" Drake said cheerfully, before realizing how that sounded and waving his hands exasperatedly. "Not literally, of course! I mean, I'd be happy to help." Wrapping an arm around Gosalyn's shoulders, he steered her away from the eager media.

Before they got too far away, a female reporter called out.

"Mr. Mallard! Why do you think a world-famous criminal would confuse you as Darkwing Duck?"

Drake shrugged. "How should I know? He's the crazed criminal..."

Sharp's jaw dropped as he was bustled toward the squad car. "What! How dare you, you insignificant..." He looked around wildly and saw Darkwing calmly regarding the scene with his arms crossed, leaning against a building. "You...!" He shrugged out of the arresting officer's grasp and rushed toward the unmoved mallard. "I don't know how you did it, but I know the truth! You're Drake Mallard and YOU adopted that kid, and you..."

Darkwing smirked and produced something from one of his pockets. "Here ya go, Sharpie. A little present to remember me by!" He held up a handful of yellow powder and blew it in the villain's face.

Sharp immediately started sneezing violently. "I'll —Achoo!— get you for this —achoo— Darkwing Duck! —Achooie— Mark my words! —achooo!—"

"I have one word for you, Sharpie..." Darkwing smirked from under the shadow of his hat. "Gesundheit."

Sharp sputtered as he was tackled and shoved into a squad car.

Drake faced the crime fighter. "Hey...! That was a pretty neat trick! What did you use on him? Sneezing powder?"

"Close. Pollen. From the Gurbstickular tree." Darkwing grinned.

"Huh," Drake shrugged, clearly having no idea what that was. "Well, I can see why you're my girl's idol. Thank you for saving her, by the way."

Darkwing gestured dismissively. "Your gratitude is much appreciated, however no thanks are necessary. It's all part of a day's work for your humble hero..."

Gosalyn snorted and clapped a hand to her beak, stifling a laugh. Drake smirked and raised an eyebrow in an expression that said "You've gotta be kidding," but admirably held back his retort.

Darkwing wrapped himself in his cape and posed dramatically. "Rest assured, Citizen, that as long Darkwing Duck is on duty, denizens of darkness and doers of diabolical deeds will always find themselves destined for a devastating defeat."

The media peppered the ducks with questions, but the police shooed them away.

The police took statements and finished processing the scene while Drake, Gosalyn, and Launchpad slipped into a deserted alley.

Darkwing joined them shortly, shushing them with a finger held to his beak. He looked around suspiciously as he pulled the cell phone out of his pocket. "Until I deliver this SIM card to S.H.U.S.H., I'm not taking any chances on someone else eavesdropping. We'll move this conversation to safer quarters."

Before anyone could protest, he bustled the group down an open manhole, 'Drake' entering reluctantly.

Once they were all enclosed in the snug space of the bolt hole, Darkwing switched on a light.

"Now we can talk freely..." he said with a slight smirk aimed in the direction of his double.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

"Finally..." 'Drake' muttered as he tugged on his cheeks, peeling off the realistic feathered mask. "Not a bad acting job, eh, Wingy?"

"Not bad at all," Darkwing smiled proudly. "Especially with the 'idol' part."

"You did great, buddy!" Launchpad slapped Fenton on the back.

"Yeah! You were brilliant, Mr. Crackshell!" Gosalyn declared.

"Thanks, Gizmobuddy!" Fenton grinned before straightening and pointing heroically upwards. "Just another one of the many faces of GIZMODUCK! Guardian of truth, justice, and the American way!"

"Oh, brother..." Darkwing covered his eyes with his hand. Gosalyn and Launchpad giggled at both heroes.

Fenton finished removing his disguise. "Much better. Boy Wingy, it sure was hard to talk wearing that big schnozzola of yours. How can you stand it?"

Darkwing gawked at him. "What?"

"And this outfit! I know you're trying to be all 'suburban-dad', but the pink shirt practically shouts 'mug me, I'm a wimp!'" Fenton exclaimed as he peeled the layers down to his own yellow shirt underneath.

"Speak for yourself! I bet the Easter Bunny approves..." Darkwing said sarcastically.

"At least I have style. This looks like a cross between a watermelon and school uniform on an old TV show." Fenton tossed the borrowed outfit to its owner.

"A 'watermelon'?" Darkwing fumbled and glared at the other duck. "Why you—!" he lunged.

While the two ducks wrestled and pelted further insults, Gosalyn and Launchpad looked at each other.

"Oh well...At least they cooperated as long as they needed to. Looks like we're getting back to normal." Gosalyn shrugged.

* * *

><p><em>Later...<em>

Phineas Sharp sulked on his uncomfortable cot, staring through the bars at the distant harbor. He snorted.

To think... Just a month ago, he'd been sitting pretty, basking in the attention of his hired hands and tending to his private island resort. Now the most brilliant criminal tycoon was stuck in solitary with nothing better to do than wool gather. He didn't even have Horatio to talk down to.

He struck the sprung mattress with his fist and instantly regretted it. The thin material offered no protection from the metal frame underneath it.

"Ah!" he moaned dramatically, clutching his hand. "I do wish I had thought that through first! This moldering filthy cockroach trap is nothing more than a veil of comfort over crude fittings. Oh..." he slumped back on the mattress and stared up at the ceiling. "What I wouldn't give for my own bed..."

His moping was interrupted by the sound of footsteps and keys jingling. A guard came to his door.

"Got a visitor for you, Sharp," he said in a bored tone.

"A visitor?" Sharp's pitch rose incredulously. He got to his feet and waited, thinking of the possibilities. Perhaps it was his cousins Aloysius or Edward. Maybe they'd forgiven him for leading Darkwing Duck to their Duckburg command station and were posting bond. Maybe they had a new assignment for him. Or maybe his manservant...ahem, uh "friend" Horatio had gotten away and returned for him with the bail money. Yes that must be it. Or maybe it was...

Sharp's beak fell open in surprise before turning his back to his visitor in disgust.

"Please...I'd much rather guzzle a gallon of cod-liver oil than talk to YOU..."

Darkwing Duck stepped around from behind the guard, a smug smile on his beak.

"Hello, Sharpie. How's life treating ya? Made any new friends yet? A flea circus by any chance?"

Sharp crossed his arms. "Yes...I'm sure you find your pitiful attempt at humor quite clever, don't you?"

Muttering to himself, Sharp grumbled. "I'd like to drop a few fleas under that ridiculous overgrown hat of yours..."

Darkwing waved the guard away. "Give us some space, Bud. Phinny and I have a private matter to discuss. Won't be but a moment..."

"What, pray tell, do you want?" Sharp asked grumpily without turning around.

"Oh, not much. Just a full confession of your crimes in a court of law and a promise to keep some secrets to yourself." Darkwing said conversationally, pulling something small and circular out of his pocket.

"I make no promises," Sharp growled. Then a sly smile crossed his features as he thought of a way he could blackmail Darkwing. Yes...Tell the media one little secret and make Darkwing beg him not to reveal the rest. That would be one way to get out of jail.

He turned to face the caped crime-fighter. "However...with the right motivation, I might be persuaded to hold my tongue. For a price..."

Instead of looking alarmed, the smile on Darkwing's face spread.

"I thought you'd say something along those lines. That's why I brought you a little present..."

He switched on his hypnotizing disk and held it at Sharp's eye level. "Darkwing Duck is not Drake Mallard…"

"Please, what kind of gullible idiot do you take me for..." Sharp said before his eyes started to follow the circular path of the spirals. Within moments, he was under the hypno-disk's spell.

* * *

><p>Horatio also had an encounter with the hypno-disk. Darkwing brushed his hands together as he left the station. That should keep his identity safe for now. The disk had done the trick again, just like it had at his high school reunion. There was just one more loose end to tie up.<p>He summoned Launchpad and had him position the Thunderquack over the St. Canard prison so that he could make one last stop...

* * *

><p>A shadow fell over Hammerhead Hannigan's window and a familiar voice startled the goat from his nap.<p>

"Wakey, wakey, Hammerhead." Darkwing called tauntingly to him from the other side of the bars.

"YAH! Where'd you come from?" After getting over his shock, Hammerhead looked at the harness and rope Darkwing was wearing and figured out the answer for himself. "Way to give a fella a heart attack..."

"Ooh, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed..." Darkwing smirked.

"Whaddya want? A welcoming party?" Hammerhead raised an eyebrow. He sat up and glared at the caped canard. "You were the joik who landed me here! You and that crazy kid!"

"Hey hey hey! She is not crazy!" Darkwing pointed at him.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say... So...what didja come here for? It certainly ain't for the chitchat."

"All I want is your attention for a moment..." Darkwing said, holding his cape in front of him.

"Well ya got that much, Duck." Hammerhead crossed his arms and leaned back against the wall. "How's the kid, by the way?"

"She's fine. And I'm here to make sure she stays that way." Darkwing produced the hypno disk again. "You are getting very sleepy..."

"Yeah right," Hammerhead snorted mockingly before he started to fall under the disk's trance.

"You were sent to kill a helpless old man. You injured Professor Waddlemeyer and left him to die."

Hammerhead repeated the phrases monotonously.

"You feel verrry guilty, and have decided to repent for all your crimes…"

Hammerhead nodded lazily.

"You have never met the Quiverwing Quack...You rue the day you met Darkwing Duck. You will quiver in fear at the very mention of his name!"

After Hammerhead repeated these phrases, Darkwing added as an afterthought.

"And there was nothing at the bridge. The bridge is just a bridge."

"The bridge is just a bridge..."

"Gosalyn Waddlemeyer is just another kid."

Hammerhead repeated that phrase. Darkwing made sure that everything he wanted the goat to forget or to confess had been covered before making his grand exit. He could hardly wait to see what would happen next. Hammerhead was sure to be convicted now.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

While Launchpad and Darkwing were busy, Gosalyn tried to amuse herself with video games, but her mind and heart just weren't into it. It was hard to be enthralled with virtual stuff when real life was so crazy.

Not twenty-four hours ago, she had almost believed her dad had finally flipped to the dark side. Then he'd surprised her, not only by revealing what he was dealing with, but by calling his arch rival for help. She'd never have guessed Darkwing was capable of such a move! Fenton, posing as Drake, alongside Darkwing Duck in public! It saved his identity and it revealed how much her dad was willing to trust Fenton. Hearing for herself that Fenton really was Gizmoduck was just the icing on the cake.

She remembered thinking before that Fenton and Gizmo had some similarities. She'd even heard Fenton use his superhero voice before. She probably would have put two and two together sooner if she'd had more time around Fenton, but, then again, maybe getting to know the real guy just made his alter ego seem all the more unlikely. Launchpad had been pretty surprised.

Darkwing had really impressed her with the way he'd handled Sharp's ultimatum all on his own. He didn't freak out or have a mental break down or ask for help or anything! He hadn't even asked Honker to help him. Maybe that kind of confidence and cleverness came with experience and training, but Gosalyn seriously doubted she'd ever be able to pull off the same accomplishment. Not without talking to someone. She was a girl of action, not planning and researching.

Gosalyn dragged her feet up the stairs. She was so tired, she could hardly think. But as she headed toward her room, she paused and glanced over her shoulder. Drake's door was open. She knew he was out tying up loose ends with Sharp and Hammerhead but she instinctively looked for her father.

She sighed and stepped into the room, allowing the combined smells of Darkwing's work and home to sink in. It was the only room that smelled like smoke, despite Drake's efforts to keep everything clean, and Gosalyn loved it. It reminded her of her first night in Darkwing Tower, smelling the smoke on his pillow as he sang her to sleep.

Thinking about the lullaby reminded her of the letters and she stood on tiptoe to grab them, scanning through them. She savored every word her dad had written for her.

_"There is nothing more precious to me than my family... I don't know what I'd do without all of you. Gosalyn is such a part of who I am, I can hardly remember what life was like before she came into it."_

_"...I never regretted adopting her and I wouldn't change anything about her. She is perfect as she is; a beautiful young lady with the heart and brains to make an impact. I'm so proud of her..."_

_"Please...tell her that I love her, now and always. She will never be invisible or alone. No matter what happens to me, I will be near, watching over her."_

_"...Give Gos a hug for me..."_

"_Meeting you, becoming your father, was the greatest thing that ever happened to me."_

_"I promised you the day we met that I will always be near to chase away fear. I intend to keep that promise. I want you to know, regardless of what happens to me, you will be provided for..."_

_"A lot of people care about you. You're something special."_

_"...Evil may be prevalent for a while, but in the end love conquers all. (And a dash of derring do doesn't hurt either)..."_

_"I know that, someday, you will stalwartly stand by my side. I've noticed everything you've done, Kiddo. You've watched my back and humbly stepped to the sidelines when you deserved the praise and glory for saving the day... Your courage and honor made me a hero. And I know one day you'll make a swell hero. You're already mine..."_

Gosalyn slipped the letters back on the shelf and wandered to her room. She tried to go to sleep but the words, and memories of so many other things her dad had done for her, kept swirling around her. There was so much she wanted to tell him, so much she wanted to get off her chest. Finally she sat at her desk and began to write. She folded the piece of paper and tucked it in a drawer for safe keeping, failing in her tiredness to notice a corner accidentally sticking out. As soon as her head hit the pillow, she was out for the count.

* * *

><p>A few hours later, a soft whirring sound announced Drake Mallard's arrival at home. He stood and stretched, yawning. Launchpad arrived shortly after him.<p>

"Phew! Whatta day!" Launchpad declared as he wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. As he followed Drake into the kitchen, he commented. "Hehe. Pretty clever of you, asking Fenton to pose as you for the cameras."

"Yep, yep, yep, yep," Drake smiled proudly. "Once again the mind conquers malice."

"Boy, I never woulda guessed Fenton was Gizmoduck. How did you know, DW?"

Drake sighed. "I had some suspicions soon after the Justice Ducks were formed. He solidified my theory after he bumbled into my hideout and caught me at work." He scowled. "The idiot is lucky I didn't break his neck with my catlike reflexes! One should never sneak up on a hero doing hero stuff."

"Don't I know it..." Launchpad grimaced and clutched his stomach in memory. He'd learned that lesson the hard way...

"Anyway, we had a tête-à-tête and moved on from there."

"Wow. You sure did a good job keeping his secret!" Launchpad declared brightly. "I thought you were kidding when you said his name on the phone. From what I've seen, you two never got along."

"Let's just say we can set aside our differences when the time calls for it and leave it at that..." Drake fixed a sandwich, leaving everything out for Launchpad. He casually munched his sandwich and turned to his sidekick with a raised eyebrow. "I assume Fenton filled your head with further insults on my wardrobe and other peculiarities on the way back to Duckburg...?"

"Nah." Launchpad waved his hand dismissively. "He was happy to help. Made him feel like an undercover spy. He liked having a chance to be a hero without the Gizmosuit."

Drake chuckled. "He'd make a fine one, someday. Not on par with me, of course. But if he trained hard enough and learned to use his head once in a while..." he shrugged. "Who knows?"

"Well, he did say something about having fun walking in your shoes for a bit, but I forgot how he phrased it." Launchpad scratched his head before realizing what he'd said and chuckling. "'Course, he didn't mean it literally, since you don't normally wear shoes..."

Drake rolled his eyes. "As if he does...?"

Launchpad kept grinning for a second before turning serious. "By the way, Drake. I wanted to tell ya earlier that I never believed you'd turned into a bad guy. I was willing to trust ya, even though I didn't know what you were up to. Hehe. Of course, that's nothing new..."

Drake's smile warmed. "Thanks, Pal."

"—Yawn— Either my aviator cap is sagging or my eyelids are getting droopy. See ya in the morning, Buddy." Launchpad waved and headed off to his room.

Drake waited until he could no longer hear his sidekick before going around the house, carefully checking for anything remotely resembling a listening device or a hidden camera with a sweeper. He activated his home computer, checking the security footage from his own cameras. He breathed a sigh of relief. It looked like home was well and truly "home" again. Nothing else had invaded his world. And he hoped it would stay that way.

At least he didn't have to worry about Sharp or Hammerhead anymore. Gosalyn could finally rest easy knowing her grandfather would receive justice. Hopefully her nightmares were a thing of the past now.

As he pondered these things, he heard a horrid rattling snore. He tilted his head and smiled. Ah...the sound of home... All was well with his family.

Drake crept up the stairs, taking care to avoid two creaky boards, and paused at Gosalyn's door. He could just make out her shape amongst the covers and he smiled warmly. He placed a delicate kiss on her head and nestled the blanket around her shoulders.

Accustomed to such nightly visits, Gosalyn snuggled under the sheet and smiled slightly in her sleep. She resumed her atrocious snoring.

Drake smiled and headed out but paused on his way to the door. Something was different... Ah, the desk.

He pulled the drawer open and glanced curiously at the paper, wondering if Gos had started a summer book report. It wasn't like her to start early but maybe she had taken his talk about responsibilities and hero training seriously.  
>It also could have been a permission slip or assumption of risk form for one of her sports teams, but Drake doubted it. He would have heard something from the other parents at the practice field.<p>

In the dim light from the hall, Drake read over the first line and froze, his jaw dropping. It was for him. He hurried into his room and closed the door, switching on the light.

"_Dear Dad_," it said. "_I'm glad to know that even heroes have someone they look up to. I'd have guessed yours was 'Super Pig,' or 'Basil of Baker Street,' or even Derek Blunt. Who knew a kid could make that much of a difference?_

"_I know we're pretty even in the life-saving department, but I wanted to tell you that, even when you're just Drake Mallard, you're still my superhero. You save me every day, just by being my Dad. I don't know where I'd be without you_."

Drake sniffed and wiped his eyes.

"_You've stuck with me when I didn't deserve it; even when you were almost killed because of me. I never even said I was sorry. Well, I'm sorry now, Dad. And I'm sorry for doubting you. I should have guessed that you would have a plan for defeating Sharp at his own game. Pretty clever, using nectar from a flower to fool him. His face was pretty funny when he started sneezing from that gurbstick-whatever stuff you threw at him. It's times like that I'm proud to say Darkwing Duck is my role model_."

"Yep, yep, yep, yep..." Drake sniffed and puffed out his chest proudly. "Bested the old buzzard with a couple of plants. A feat worthy of a few international interviews, if I do say so myself..."

He went back to reading and frowned.

"_Sometimes I forget who you are. You're kind of like a big brother, or a fun uncle; like the way Launchpad is. You play ball and get dirty and rough house and play 'Whiffle Boy' with me just like a best friend would do. Then you go all 'Dad-like' on me and treat me like a baby_."

"Well of course I do!" he exclaimed to the page. "You're MY baby girl! No matter how old you are, you will always be my baby. What parent wouldn't coddle their child..." He stopped as he got to the next sentence.

"_I don't want to be a baby. I want to be a hero. Your hero... Just like you are mine. I want to __**earn**__ it, Dad_."

"Oh," he chuckled nervously. "That's a little different. But still, a child shouldn't feel like she has to be a hero! I'm going to have a long talk with that girl..."

He then remembered that, technically, Gosalyn hadn't given him this letter yet. He could argue that he was meant to find it. Yet he knew, had she meant for him to read it, she would have placed it in a conspicuous spot where he would be sure to notice it. Like his bed or his closet or even on the nightstand by her bed or on top of her desk. Not stuffed hastily in a drawer like a comic book she wasn't supposed to be reading... He sighed and went back to reading.

"_I can handle things on my own, but I like knowing that you've got my back, just in case I slip up. Thanks for improving my costume, by the way. It's major league awesome!_"

Drake chuckled lightly.

"_I think I understand what you meant when you said 'love' is the most powerful thing in the world. I thought love just meant mushy gushy stuff, but it's strong and brave too. It has hope even when everything goes wrong and someone you care about doesn't act like himself._

_"Knowing what you would do for me and knowing what I would do for you, I get it now. A true hero is one with an open heart. They may get hurt or scared, but they keep going because they know why they do what they do and who they do it for._

_"I'm glad you're still You, Dad. Don't ever change. I love you_."

Signed "Gosalyn Mallard."

Drake wiped tears out of his eyes. Impulsively hugging and kissing the paper, he hurried back to Darkwing Tower and xeroxed it. Tucking the copy into his pocket, he went home and returned the original to the desk drawer. Planting another kiss on his little angel's head, he skipped lightly to his room and shut the door with a sigh.

He had done it. Gosalyn now knew the depth and meaning of love and what it meant to be a true hero. There was no greater lesson he could ever teach her. He sighed happily and laid back on his pillow, rereading the letter and poring over his daughter's loving words. Sleeping was the last thing on his mind now.

At that moment, he was so happy he felt like his heart could burst. All the trials and traumas of the past few weeks seemed only a distant memory now. How could he have ever doubted himself as a parent? He had taught his little girl love, given her a home and a family, and helped her on her way to becoming the hero he knew she was meant to be.

Maybe it was no ordinary life, but then she was no ordinary girl. He had been clear on that right from the start. He also knew there were plenty of children out there who looked up to their parents, but he doubted there were many parents out there who looked up to their child the way he looked up to Gosalyn. If there really was a "Big Guy" looking out for him, blessing him with a daughter like her must be proof of his existence.

Wanting to savor the moment as much as possible, he got up and returned to Gosalyn's room. He pulled out her desk chair and sat beside her, just watching her sleep.

Her snoring had subsided, and she looked completely at peace now; one of his favorite sights. He had a feeling that he would see her like this a lot more often now. She could rest easy knowing that her grandfather would receive justice, courtesy of Darkwing Duck.

Drake softly sang her grandfather's lullaby, beautifully reminded of that fateful day they had first met. And judging by the smile he could see forming on her face as he sang, he had a feeling she was dreaming about that moment too.

Yawning, he leaned on his elbows and whispered,

"Sleep well, hero."

Within moments he was fast asleep with a peaceful smile on his face.


	20. References

**References**

_Darkwing Duck episodes_: "In Like Blunt," "Darkly Dawns the Duck", "Time and Punishment," "Dead Duck", "ADuckyphobia", "Clash Reunion", "The Quiverwing Quack," etc

_Darkwing comics_: Disney Adventures "Turnabout is FOWL Play," kaboom's "FOWL Disposition," "Crisis of Infinite Darkwings," and "The Duck Knight Returns"

_Other Disney Comics_: "The Golden Helmet", by Carl Barks; "The Lost Charts of Columbus", by Don Rosa.

_Movie references_: "Sherlock Holmes," Warner Brothers, 2009; "The Great Mouse Detective," Disney,

_Batman the Animated Series_: "The Strange Secret of Bruce Wayne"

_Darkwing Fanfic_: "Father's Day," by Hematitebadger

_LupineLeigh stories_: "The Duck Knight in Duckburg", "The Best Present Ever", "Until Proven Innocent", "My Daughter, My Life," "Neighborly Secrets"


End file.
